


Jenny

by ALWrite



Series: Outlaw [6]
Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Canon, Strip Poker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWrite/pseuds/ALWrite
Summary: Before Ben Wade ever set eyes on Rachel and Tommy there was a woman who might have stolen his heart.





	1. A lady arrives in town

**Author's Note:**

> The series "Outlaw" was supposed to end with the last story "Mattie" (or, chronologically speaking, with the story "A filly of spirit" and the birth of Ben Wade's grandchild).
> 
> However, I was not done with the character Ben Wade aka Warner, and in order to find a final end I added two more stories: 'Jenny' and 'Reunion'.  
> They are, if you like, bonus stories, and they serve as a 'time frame' with the first story telling of the time before Ben Wade met Rachel and Tommy.

Ben Wade now calling himself Ben Warner stood in a crowd outside the saloon on the main street of Indian Springs; a beer in his hand. Like other people around him he was waiting for the stagecoach. Several weeks ago he had sent a herd of 20 stallions to Fort Gibson. It had been his first business with the Army and the first sale of horses since he had bought his ranch almost a year ago. The men who had delivered the horses had returned to report that the Major in charge was very pleased with the herd, and that he would send the money with the next available coach to Indian Springs.

As Ben drank his beer he was struck by the irony that Ben Wade was waiting for the safe arrival of a coach carrying his money. He chuckled, causing the people around him to give him more than a few curious looks.

"There it comes!"

Everybody turned at the yell. Still far off in the distance a cloud of dust was rising and growing. A few minutes later the steady beats of the horses' hooves were heard, and short after the coach finally stopped next to the saloon.

 

_Finally! After hours and hours of dust and being shaken about in a cage called 'stagecoach', they had arrived at their destination! How she would relish a hot bath and a soft bed that night!_

Jennifer Carson, thirty-four, shapely, elegant; but worn to the bone, yawned and stretched most unladylike before she summoned her finest manners and her brightest smile. The coach stopped, and the driver jumped from his seat, groaning and stretching; quickly opening the door with a flourish.

"Mrs.Carson..." he said, offering his dirty hand to his passenger inside.

 

Ben had first looked to check the strong box on the roof of the stagecoach. _Was his money there? - Yes, there was the iron box; tied securely, unharmed._  

But then Ben's eyes noticed a small hand, clad in an elegant green satin glove, being placed in the driver's big paw. Out of the coach stepped a vision...a mirage...a woman with a full, soft face surrounded by dark brown hair, and a lush, bountiful figure. The green glove was matched by a green dress that spoke of class, a dress no woman of Indian Springs would have thought of wearing simply for travelling...

 

_Interesting man. Clad completely in black. Trousers and jacket somewhat dusty from standing outside in the wind; the clothes not really fashionable but... different. Flashy. Eye-catching. The man himself wasn't very tall; he was strongly-built with a weather-beaten face and a slightly unkempt beard. Not a gentleman, then. But what else was he? She notices his eyes; they were blue-green and piercing. And they were evaluating her!_

Jennifer Carson couldn't help blushing at the lusty smile that slowly graced the man's lips in answer to her open appraisal of him. Insolent and provocative though the smile was, she noticed it changed his rough face, made it softer and... _very attractive._

 

_That blush was becoming her._

Ben saw the woman's full lips part slightly in an almost-smile in answer to his evaluating look and he felt his blood heat up at the sight of the sparkle in her eyes. For a moment his money, still stashed in the iron box on top of the coach, was forgotten. In front of him was something much more interesting than mere dollar bills! He wondered who the woman might be and whom she would want to visit in a small place like Indian Springs.

"The saloon is right here, Mrs. Carson," the coach driver pointed to the swinging doors.

The lady nodded to the coach driver.

"Thank you."

_Her voice is like her dress,_ Ben thought, _sophisticated and cultured._ Her dress, garnished with lace and other trimmings, reminded him of the elaborate dresses he had seen in the streets of Dodge City and San Francisco.

The woman gathered up her skirt and walked past the onlookers into the saloon. Ben eyes followed her.

_Nice walk. Straight, energetic, decisive. And the way her hips swayed ever-so-slightly was... alluring._ One of her hair strands had escaped the rigid control of her hairpins, and it snaked along her back accentuating the blazingly green colour of her dress.

 

Ben's attention turned back to the stagecoach. The driver had unloaded the bags, parcels and boxes, and Mr. Jones, the banker, received the iron box which held money, documents, and other assorted valuables. Ben greeted him with his fingertip to the brim of his hat.

"Mr. Jones, there's money from Fort Gibson for me in that box."

"You will have to give me an hour or two to sort out all the payments, Mr. Warner," Jones answered somewhat arrogantly. "Mr. North here and I will need to go through some paperwork first."

Ben nodded. "Alright. I'll see you in the bank in two hours," he said and turned towards the saloon.

 

When Ben entered the woman stood at the bar. Ben moved to the far end of the bar, not wanting to attract her attention; for the moment he was content to just observe her. Harris, the barkeeper, placed a glass of whisky in front of her; and without hesitation the lady drank it down and took a deep breath afterwards.

"I need a room for three days," she said to Harris, and Ben saw Harris frown disapprovingly.

"Not here, Ma'am," he said with an air of dignity Ben had never seen on him before, "we have a hotel in Indian Springs. You... ah... you don't want a room _here,_ " he added, trying to convey his message with a penetrating look at the lady in front of him.

The lady blushed at Harris' words.

"No, of course not," she said quickly.

 

_Drat! She had forgotten that she was pretending to be a lady now._

Jenny sighed. Saloons and bars had been her world for the last fifteen years. She was familiar with the types of men she might encounter here, and she felt quite at home standing at a bar, and ordering a whisky. She hadn't realized how strange it would appear that a lady like her might want to drink alcohol in a common saloon. _Well, there was nothing to be ashamed of. Fifteen years weren't erased in just a few days._

"I'd be much obliged if you could tell me where this hotel is," she said to the barkeeper, her voice and demeanour that of a lady of class again.

"I'll take you there, if you want," Ben offered, and she turned to look at him. Ben had enjoyed the exchange, and he was intrigued.  _Who was this woman?_ As yet, he couldn't quite place her.

"Well... that would be most pleasant," she accepted his offer with a little smile.

Ben smiled back. "Oh, it will be my... _pleasure_ , Ma'am," he answered, his voice taking on a deep, purring quality as he stressed the word.

The lady's eyes turned a shade darker, and her cheeks blushed a deep red. She didn't back off, though, and her eyes held his as if she was waiting for something. Ben suddenly realized how thrilled he was by her behaviour.

Her look at him took on an inquiring quality, and he finally understood.

"Warner. Benjamin Warner, Ma'am," he said with a tilting of his head, the tip of his finger touching the brim of his hat.

_Suave..._ she had to admit that. _And obviously given to play-acting. Now, that might just turn out to be interesting... Stop it, Jenny!_ she told herself. _What are you dreaming about, girl? A lady does not lust after a stranger!_

She smiled now, somewhat artificially, somewhat ladylike, a smile of social grace, not honesty.

"Jennifer Carson," she introduced herself and extended her hand.

_Nice smile,_ Ben had to admit. _A bit artificial, but this only indicated there was another layer beneath the exterior, a layer waiting to be excavated._

He took her hand. It was small in his large palm.

 

_That look! This man was not like the other men she had encountered during her voyage._

She had expected him to shake her hand - or perhaps just squeeze it - but instead he raised it carefully to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers; heating her up in a way she hoped wasn't visible.

His lips brushed her hand, but since it was covered in a green satin glove, he couldn't really touch it. It wasn't enough, he decided. His second hand came to help, and its fingers touched along the inside of her wrist where the glove ended. A soft stroke with his fingertips, no more. He was rewarded with a slight shiver, and the lady lowered her gaze. It was victory enough for the moment. He released her hand.

"Shall we go?" he asked, and Jennifer nodded and gathered up her skirt.

 

When they passed the coach outside they heard a voice say

"Where you want that baggage of yours, Missy?"

Ben could see that the 'Missy' straightened at the words. She quickly assessed the man who had spoken.

"Are you talking to me, Mister?"

Her chin had come up, and her voice had lost its ladylike quality altogether. There was an unmistakable threat in it.

The man addressed thus - Jefferson by name - stopped short. Jefferson had once been a cowhand, but had been fired when talking back to his boss. In a small place like Indian Springs word got around. Nobody liked hands who had an opinion of their own, and so nobody hired him. Finding himself without a steady income, he was doing all kinds of odd jobs in the hope to make some money.

Jefferson wasn't used to ladies, and it was likely that his answer would offend her even more. Ben didn't hesitate.

"Bring it to the hotel, Jefferson," he said and handed the man a dollar coin.

"Yes, sir," was the prompt answer, and Jefferson vanished with a suitcase and a bag. Jenny turned to her escort somewhat astonished.

"Do you always take control of the situation, Mr. Warner?" she asked.

Ben smiled. "Only if it suits my purposes, Ma'am," he answered, and again Jenny was taken by the suave behaviour he displayed.

"And what, pray, is your purpose, sir?" she couldn't help teasing; the smile on her face demonstrating plainly how much she was enjoying herself.

Ben laughed out loud.

"Well... to take you to the hotel, of course."

_Of course._

Jenny lowered her eyes. A warm wave washed over her: _perhaps being held up in this town for three days wouldn't prove to be as dull as she had thought._

 

 

 

 


	2. Small-town hotel

As they walked along the dust-covered street, the lady's steps were awkward and uncertain - but this was only natural after such a long and uncomfortable journey. Ben accommodated his stride accordingly. When she stumbled slightly, he caught her.

"Thank you. I hadn't realized how exhausting the trip has been," she said.

"Well," he jumped to the opportunity, "if you are none too steady on your feet, best thing is to hang on to me."

He held out his arm, bent at the elbow, for her to take.

"Ahhh..." she purred, "but won't this stir up all kinds of gossip for you, sir?"

Ben laughed. "Only gossip it can stir up is that I'm walking with the most beautiful woman in the whole town."

The compliment came off his lips smoothly enough, Jenny realized, but looking at the man beside her she didn't think it empty flattery. _His eyes were sparkling; the look he gave her was one of... what? Was it appreciation? Perhaps even admiration?_

She smiled, and Ben's eyes turned a shade darker as her face grew softer and her lips opened invitingly, showing a row of even white teeth.

"Well, Mr. Warner, if taking your arm makes me the most beautiful woman here in town... how could I ever refuse?"

He laughed out at her wit, and she took his arm. They walked on slowly, comfortable with each other, their strides in perfect concord.

 

"Where you from?" he asked.

"St. Louis."

"Visiting someone nearby?"

"No." She shook her head. "I will take the coach to Pah-Rimpi in a few days, and then continue by train."

"And where you headed?"

"San Francisco."

He stopped and frowned down on her. "San Francisco? By way of Indian Springs?"

Jenny sighed. _He was right. It was a huge detour._

"Believe me, Mr. Warner, I _have_ my reasons," was all she answered to Ben's remark.

 

_She had left St. Louis by coach and boarded a train in Council Bluffs, intent on crossing the country on the newly-built Transcontinental Railroad which ran from Council Bluffs in the East to Sacramento in the West. But then she had spotted someone on the train who had known her from the brothel in St. Louis. She had decided to leave the train and stay a few days in a no-name town. When she took the next train West she found out that the man she had been trying to dodge seemed to have had the very same idea._

_Again, she had to change her plans to avoid exposure, and so she had decided to exchange the comfort of a Pullman wagon for a shaky and dusty journey by coach, the country's infrastructure leading her far off her original track._

 

When they arrived at the hotel, the lady's luggage stood safely in the hall.

Ben banged on the bell that stood on the desk, but it took several minutes until Donald Burns, the owner of the hotel, arrived.

He took a look at the two people in front of him and frowned.

"Yes?"

Ben had to suppress a smile at the lady's astonished look; manners weren't too smooth in this little town.

There was a silence that dragged on. Just like in the saloon when she had waited for Ben to introduce himself, the lady assumed a haughty look. Unfortunately, it was lost on Burns who didn't grasp what it implied.

"What you want?" he asked.

The lady took a deep breath. Again, Ben decided to interfere.

"How about a room for the lady, Burns?" he asked sarcastically.

"How long you want to stay?" Burns asked casting a look at the lady's fine clothes. Ben could see how the prospect of making some money off his guest notched up the room price in Burns' head.

The rude question had had its effect. For a moment, 'the lady' looked as if she didn't intend to stay at all. But after a deep breath she said,

"Three days. I shall be leaving with the next stagecoach."

"That'll be nine dollars," Burns said looking expectantly.

Jenny was astonished. "That much?"

Burns nodded. "We don't get many visitors here, and my wife and I have to live, don't we?"

He took a little box out from a drawer beneath the counter and looked expectantly at the woman in front of him.

"You expect me to pay in advance?"

"Well, what if you run off without paying?" Burns asked.

"And leave my suitcases behind?"

"Perhaps it is enough if the lady pays just for the first night, Burns," Ben interfered again. "Or don't you think her trustworthy?"

Donald Burns cleared his throat.

"Ah... well... 'kay," he conceded.

Astonished, Jenny turned and beheld Ben's smirk. He was fully aware of the fact that he had taken matters out of her hands - again.

"Donald...?" a voice from an adjacent room called out and, very quickly, the hotel manager vanished.

 

"You interfered again."

Ben's smirk only deepened at the lady's accusation.

"Well... couldn't let Burns continue like that in front of a lady, could I?" he asked, the look he gave her now one of pure innocence.

She tried hard not to smile, he could see it. She tried but - failed.

At that moment, Burns came back.

"Room 4. That's the one at the end of the corridor. You can see the whole street from that room."

"Good. - And I shall require a bathtub."

"A bathtub?"

Burns expression gave rise to the suspicion that he had never heard the word before.

"Yes," Jenny nodded. "I am dirty and dusty from my journey, and I would like to take a bath."

"Am..." Don Burns hesitated. His wife had a bathtub. Perhaps the only one there was in the whole town. But he wasn't sure if she wanted it borrowed by someone.

Jenny, however, was in no mood to even discuss her need.

"If you don't even have a bathtub I might just as well not stay here and sleep outside in the street. It could hardly make me dustier than I am already!"   

Jenny had raised her voice only slightly, but the effect was astonishing. Burns was a changed man. His body language and voice changed to pure servility.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll ask my wife. She has a bathtub. I'm sure she will lend it to you."

Again, he vanished in the back and Ben and Jenny could hear him talk to someone.

Ben was observing the woman in front of him closely. The way she had assumed a haughty stance and diction when demanding the tub had been nothing but impressive. But now, as she stood in front of him watching the empty doorway through which Burns had vanished, she wore a derogative smile around her mouth. _Who or what was that woman?_

 

As quickly as he had run out, Burns re-appeared.

"Am... it will take some time to make the room and the bath ready," he said.

"How long?"

"Am... perhaps an hour."

Jenny took a deep breath, a sharp retort forming in her brain and on her lips, but Burns deliberately turned away and occupied himself with something. Ben decided to interfere again.

"Fancy waiting in the restaurant instead?" he asked.

"The restaurant isn't open," Burns mentioned. Ben just looked at him.

"Ah... well... perhaps if you'd like a coffee..." he offered sheepishly.

"Yes, I'd like that very much. Thank you," Jenny said in her most dignified voice, backing up Ben's look. She gathered up her skirt and turned away from the counter in order to forestall any further remarks.

Together, they made for the restaurant inside the hotel - a small place that passed for elegant in the small place that was Indian Springs.     

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Small-talk

"I should have sat down in the lobby reading a book," Jenny said with a sigh when they had taken a seat.

"Why is that?" Ben wondered.

"I am taking up too much of your time, Mr. Warner. I am sure you have work to do," Jenny said.

Ben smiled. "Yes."

He fell silent, his eyes intense on her, communicating how much he preferred her company to whatever it was he had to do, and Jenny didn't repeat her wish for him to leave. She lowered her eyes at his gaze and smiled as she felt that warm wave wash over her again. _This intense look of his... what a man!_

 

_Whatever she was thinking about, it was definitely something nice. Her face had gone all flushed, and there was a semi-smile lurking in the corners of her lips that didn't yet dare blossom into a full smile..._

At that moment Burns put two cups of coffee and a bowl with sugar rather clumsily and with a lot of clatter in front of his guests. The cups and saucers were of excellent porcelain, Jenny noticed. Looking around she could see that everything had been done to make this restaurant as elegant as was possible. But still, compared to what she had seen and been used to in St. Louis, it seemed that it was only an attempt at elegance, no more than skin-deep.

_Well... sometimes it didn't pay to look too closely. But did this also apply to the man in front of her?_

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Warner?" Jenny asked curiously.

"I own a ranch about an hour's ride form here," Ben said.

"Really?" Jenny asked feeling a little bit deflated. _A rancher. Somehow he didn't look like one. He had such a thrilling, decisive, almost dangerous demeanour_... Jenny couldn't quite imagine the man in front of her tending to cows.

 

 _She didn't seem interested any longer,_ Ben realized. _Perhaps she was just making polite conversation, and she really had wanted him to leave when she had suggested it._

"How many cattle do you have?" Jenny continued.

"No cattle. I breed horses."

"Really?"

_Did he imagine it, or did she sound more interested now?_

"Do you like horses, Mrs. Carson?"

"Yes... well... I have only ever ridden in carriages. But they are beautiful animals."

 _No!_ Ben shook his head. _That was no more than the polite conversation of a lady of class. But he didn't want small talk! He wanted to learn about her!_

"What are you thinking about, sir?" Jenny asked. She had caught and interpreted his gesture and look: slightly amused by her answer, slightly bored, not quite willing to play this kind of social game...

Ben pursed his lips in thought; he was looking at the tablecloth. With his spoon he drew patterns on it, delaying his answer. When he looked up at her, his eyes were intense.

"I was thinking about the way you fought for your bathtub," he said. "Looks like you are not used to giving in."

A smile played around Jenny's lips and she, too, lowered her eyes for a moment and stared into her coffee. She sighed slightly before she answered

"I find that when you give up too easily you get nowhere in life."

"That's true," Ben said sipping his coffee. "But is a bathtub really worth fighting for?"

Jenny laughed - a pearly laughter, unrestrained and natural, a laughter that resonated deeply with him.

"Oh, but I think so. And since I hate giving up it was good that Mr. Burns was willing to go in search for one."

Ben laughed.

"He will probably charge you more for the room now because of this," he said knowing Donald Burns. _The lady in front of him didn't seem intimidated by the mention of exorbitant prices. She was probably used to a big city and city prices. Or perhaps it was that she was used to getting whatever she wanted. What had she said: she wasn't used to giving in?_

He felt slightly provoked by the idea. _Perhaps there was a way of testing her..._

"I wonder what might have made you give up that bathtub," he voiced his thought.

"Give it up?" Jenny asked in mock indignation. She shook her head. "Don't underestimate me, Mr. Warner. You will find that I never back away from a challenge."

"Never?" he asked, his eyebrows raised, his eyes sparkling.

"No."

"Not even if you may have to do something... hm... let's say 'unladylike'?" he requested confirmation.

She only raised her chin at his words. "Not even then." Her stare was as unwavering as his. For a moment it seemed as if they wanted to outstare each other.

But then laughter began to bubble up in Jenny. It showed in her face and posture, and Ben's lips twitched in amusement when he saw it. She giggled at his reaction, and then laughed.

Ben couldn't stay serious, either. _The way she had played that.. perhaps she was an actress. Yes, that must be it. At least, it would explain her varied and sometimes a bit artificial behaviour._

He was sure there would come a moment to explore this idea further.

"Tell me why you are going to San Francisco, Mrs. Carson," he said when they were done laughing.

"Do you know San Francisco, Mr. Warner?" she purred.

Ben smiled.

"I do."

She was surprised. "Indeed? - So, perhaps you could tell me a little bit about the city. What do I have to expect? Understand that all I have to go on are my late husband's tales, and it had been a long time since he had seen the city."

_So she had had a husband. But this wasn't the time to find out more about him. San Francisco was a much nicer subject._

"It's been a long time for me, too," Ben said, his voice taking on a melancholic quality.

"Did you enjoy the city?" Jennifer asked quietly. _He seemed to be far away, but there was a smile on his face, so his memory couldn't be bad._

Ben took a deep breath, and the sound that escaped his lips was almost a sigh.

"Don't remember much of the city itself." He chuckled. "I knew a girl there."

"Ahhh..." Jenny laughed. "That explains why you have good memories. Who was she?"

"The daughter of a sea captain."

"Of course. There's the ocean. My husband spoke of it, too. Have you seen the ocean?"

Ben nodded. "We used to meet there, the girl and I. Away from the docks there was a huge boulder, and behind it was countryside: bushes, trees, woodland. I used to walk down to the docks and wait for her at the boulder whlie looking out on the blue-green water."

"Tell me about the girl."

"The girl?"

She nodded encouragement.

"What do you want to know?"

"What do you remember when you remember her?"

His eyes wandered off into the distance. "I remember... I remember she had the most beautiful green eyes."

"Green?"

He nodded. "About the greenest eyes I ever saw." His eyes were still fixed on a spot in his past. "And I'd stare deep into them. They'd chance colour in front of me... all the colours of the sea."

His voice trailed off, and Jenny felt a stab of envy.

_He still remembered that girl after all those years! What was it that made men appreciate a woman? Was it something the woman was or did? Or was it a quality in and of the man himself? And why did some men appreciate their wives and stayed faithful to them while others needed the 'special services' of whores?_

_She had always wondered about this. Naturally, she had never asked any of her customers. In the first place, she couldn't afford to chase them away. And she wouldn't have gotten an honest reply, anyway. Whoring wasn't about honesty or truth. It was about need. Hers for money, and theirs for... oh well. This time was over. Finished. Done with!_

She sighed. Ben took it as a cue.

"Do you want me to leave?"

She looked at him astonished.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well... you must be bored by me and my story by now. And you said earlier you wanted to read."

"No," Jenny interrupted, perhaps a little bit too quickly. But the thought of him leaving her to sit and wait wasn't a pleasant one.

She coughed delicately to mask her blunder.

"I just said this... I... well... I didn't mean to keep you from something important."

"You were trying to be polite?"

She nodded. "I always read to pass time more quickly. I read - or play a game."

Ben chuckled.

"Sorry, Mrs. Carson. Can't help you with this one. The only game I know is 'Poker'," he said.

"You play 'Poker'?" Jennifer asked enthusiastically. A second later she could have bitten off her tongue. _This wouldn't go well with her intended role as a lady at all. A lady didn't know how to play Poker. Drat!_

Ben looked at her with an amused smile. Of course, he had picked up on her enthusiasm for the game. Jennifer blushed. Hiding her smile behind a lace handkerchief, as a lady would, she continued,

"I probably shouldn't be admitting this... but I learned to play 'Poker' as a girl, and I always liked it a lot. - Naturally," she continued with an air of sophistication in speech and gestures, "I wouldn't ever play for..."

"...money," Ben added, his smirk quite open now.

"No. I don't play for money." Her voice was serious and controlled. She had no intention of risking the hard-earned cash she had put aside during the last fifteen years, and that was supposed to give her a comfortable life in San Francisco in a Poker game - however entertaining it might be.

Ben took her measure. Her eyes never swayed, and she was serious.

"What would you play for?" he asked, his voice dropping into that seductive drawl that could heat a woman's blood.

"Oh, anything, really," Jenny answered. "Matches, for instance."

Ben laughed aloud.

"Or pebbles, if you like. They weigh more. Makes you feel more like playing for something real," she continued in the same vein.

"No." Ben shook his head laughing. "As much as I would like to play Poker with you, Mrs. Carson, I won't ride all the way to the riverbank and collect pebbles for it."

Now, Jenny looked at him expectantly.

"Well...what would you accept? There must be something that we can play for."

 

"Excuse me, Madam," a female voice said.

When Jenny looked up she saw a pretty young, blond woman. Slender and elegant, she had a hint of 'Charleston' in her dress. She wore a hairstyle and make-up that spoke of a city life rather than this small town place. It was Mrs. Burns, the hotel owner's young wife.

"Your room and bath are ready now, Mrs. Carson."

Ben could see that Jenny was quite impressed by the woman.

 

_Mrs. Burns was what was called a 'Southern Belle'. She had come from South Carolina a few weeks ago and married Don Burns who hoped that their marriage would advance his status in town and add some splendour to the hotel. Burns had found her via an agent who specialised in pairing up 'educated and sophisticated Southern Beauties' who the Civil War had left penniless with up-and-coming businessmen in the West._

 

Jenny and Ben rose.

"May I take you out to dinner?" Ben asked.

Jenny looked at him. _He wanted to see her again. And he meant her, the lady Jennifer Carson._ Her look changed to one of wistfulness. _She was so used to men discussing payment for her services at that point... she had completely forgotten how it felt when it was her company rather than her body that was cherished._

"I'm sure we can find some... _books_... to discuss," he added with a purring voice when she didn't answer immediately. A soft smile appeared on Jenny's lips at his words.

"Seven o'clock," she said tilting her head and giving a little good-bye nod.

When she had left Ben took a deep breath. _What a woman!_ He put on his hat and decided to see the banker.

 

 

 

 


	4. A dinner engagement

At seven o'clock sharp Ben knocked at Jennifer Carson's door. He had deposited his money in the bank and - having been incapable of getting the lady out of his mind - he had decided to get a room at the hotel himself. While his clothes were cleaned, he himself had had a good wash, combed his hair, and he had even trimmed his beard.

When Jennifer Carson opened the door he was shocked as when he had seen her the first time stepping out of that coach. He just stood and stared, devouring her with his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" she inquired with an amused smile. Still speechless, he just shook his head.

She wore a dress that in a big city might be considered an elegant but not-too-flashy evening gown. In a small-world town like Indian Springs, however, it was breathtakingly splendid, and placed her right at the top of elegance imaginable. Her décolletage was enticing but not vulgar, her beautiful brown hair was done up but differently from her former style, and there was no make-up on her beautiful, round face. But the best feature was that this woman didn't use any perfume. When he raised her hand to his lips and leaned in a bit he could smell soap and woman. Pleasantly-warm woman. It took quite an effort to restrain himself, but he managed to release her hand again and to offer his arm.

~~~

 

During dinner the talk was, indeed, about books.

Ben found that Jennifer Carson was an avid reader and - having lived in St. Louis - had had access to a much wider range of books than he himself had.

"You haven't heard of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'?" Jenny asked unbelieving. "It is such a famous book," she explained. "I thought that by now everybody in the United States of America had heard of it."

"What is it about?" Ben asked, refilling their wine glasses.

"It is about 'Uncle Tom' who is a slave, and who has to endure the most abominable abuse by his master."

Ben looked at her thoughtfully.

"And why would you wish to read about such abuse, Mrs. Carson?" he suddenly asked.

Jenny set down her glass, profoundly shocked by Ben's words. _It was as if her husband Jim had spoken to her, telling her that she shouldn't copy others, shouldn't read something simply because everybody read it, shouldn't listen to people's gossip but follow her own heart instead._

Ben saw the change in her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Tell me more about it."

"No," Jenny shook her head, contrite now. "You are quite right. The book was recommended to me because everybody read it at the time, which is not the best reason to pick up a book. But it did make an impression on me nevertheless."

Ben's eyes were serious.

"Tell me."

"The book is about right and wrong, and it is about how noble a mere slave can be. It is very uplifting at times. But it is also about unrighteous people, and it can turn very..." - she looked at him, - "...'unwholesome'."

"Unwholesome?" Ben repeated, not sure what she meant.

She nodded. "That's what my husband Jim would have called it. He always tried to protect me from... vulgar people and the... not so beautiful things in life." Her voice had gone all wistful, but then she shook her head to chase away the memories and looked at Ben again.

"I shouldn't read such books. But I had no idea of the injustices slaves had to suffer. I had never thought about slavery and politics before."

Ben nodded. _Politics. Not his favourite subject._ In his opinion, both men and women only did what benefitted themselves. People in power called it politics while a common man might be branded a criminal because of the same behaviour. _'Uncle Tom's Cabin', huh? No chance to get at books in a place like this town. Pity, though..._

"I'm afraid there isn't any choice of books here in Indian Springs," he voiced his thoughts. "Only book I've ever seen in this town is the Bible."

"Did you know that there is a big book shop in Chicago. They send books to your home?" Jennifer asked.

"Oh?" That sparked Ben's interest.

"Yes. You have to pay in advance, of course. But they have an impressive stock. All you do is send them a letter saying what you want and send them the money, and they send the book to you. It's quite a new idea, I believe."

"They may perhaps send books to St. Louis," Ben remarked, "but certain not to Indian Springs."

"Well... you never know," Jenny said. "They boast about sending their books to anywhere in the country."

Ben raised his eyebrows. "Really?" _Now that sounded really interesting. He hadn't read a decent book in ages._

Jenny smiled at the excitement audible in his voice.

"I'll give you the address."

 

"Now..." Ben took up the talk again after the dishes had been cleared away and Jenny was starting on her dessert, "let's talk about our Poker game, shall we?"

Jenny's lips turned upward while she savoured the taste of her dessert.

"Why, you must like Poker just as much as I do, Mr. Warner," she said.

Ben's hand played with the stem of his wine glass. His eyes never left hers.

"Maybe."

"So we must find a way to... _play_ ," she said, "even though we won't play for money."

Naturally, Ben had picked up on the double meaning of the word 'play'. It was exactly what he had been waiting for. Their gazes locked again. Both of them enjoyed their banter enormously. It was time to raise the stakes.

"We could play for _clothes_ ," he said, his voice so quiet Jenny almost missed what he said.

"What?" She wasn't sure she had heard right.

Ben explained: "With only two players, there's not much fun in raising the stakes until the one with less money has to back off. This way the whole fun could be over after just two games. Instead we deal, get replacement cards and then just find out who's got the better hand. Loser has to take one piece of whatever he wears off." He was smirking now.

Jenny had never heard anything so... _indecent_ , anything so... _exciting_.

 

"Is that how you play 'Poker' here in Indian Springs?" Jenny asked, desperate to divert his look from her flushed cheeks and to play the ball back into his court.

Ben's smirk never left his lips.

"No," he admitted, "but this is how the two of us could play it. That is... if you dare."

Jenny's thoughts were racing. _A dare. Why not? She loved challenges. And she was a brilliant player._

Knowing the many bits and pieces of clothing that had gone into her dressing-up for tonight, she felt certain that she would hold the advantage. _After all, how many pieces of clothing did a man wear? Long johns, shirt, trousers, two socks, two boots... that was it. Seven winning hands of hers should leave him sitting naked opposite her. And then, who could know what might happen?_

She looked at the rugged face with the laughing eyes and the ever-present smile, the calloused hands that were so soft when touching the small of her back or taking her elbow to guide her, and she envisioned them on her breasts...

_Oh, well... Yes, she was giving up on this life and she meant to build up a reputation for herself as a lady, but it wouldn't be until she had reached San Francisco and could begin to establish herself in society there. At the moment San Francisco - and with it her new life - were still a far cry off. And the man in front of her was delicious. When had she ever had the chance to dally freely with a man who exuded such masculinity? To be an equal partner instead of a paid companion and entertainer?_

Ben was gazing into her eyes. Although he didn't know what she was thinking, he could see that her mind was chasing the possibilities of this game. And perhaps its advantages. His blood warmed. _She stood no chance. He wasn't above cheating when the prize was right. And she was a prize well worth cheating for. Camisole, bodice and bloomers, petticoats and dress, and her two shoes: seven winning hands on his part, and everything of her would be on display. That was, if she had the guts to go along with it._

Her small fingers held the wine glass, her full lips touched the rim of it. She drank down the last of her wine.

_The two red spots in her cheeks... were they from the wine? Had they been there before? Or were they visual proof of her... vivid imagination?_ He was pretty sure that she would accept the dare.

"Well, Mr. Warner," Jenny said when she had finished her wine with a flourish, "it would seem that there is a joyful game coming up tonight. Perhaps we should retire to my room." And she rose from her chair smiling at him before her sudden acceptance had fully registered in his brain.

 

 

 


	5. The Poker game

They bought another bottle of wine for Jenny, and Ben bought a bottle of whisky for himself; then they walked up the stairs to Jenny's room.

Jenny cleared the small table and took out a deck of cards from her carpet bag. It was already opened and used but looked almost new.

"Open?" Ben asked, testing how 'professional' her attitude was.

_No, he would not draw her out. And, yes, she knew what an open deck meant to a professional Poker player: that it might be 'prepared'. But she would act the innocent._

So she smiled at his words.

"Yes. I used it to play solitaire during my train rides."

Actually, she had been trying to entice others to play with her early on after she had boarded the first train, but she had learned quickly that playing Poker wasn't accepted as suitable pastime for a lady.

_Should he believe her? But then: why shouldn't there be a woman who happened to learn the game and love it? Calling to mind how many things were off limits to women because they were deemed 'unseemly' Ben had decided early in life that he wouldn't have liked to be a woman himself. So far the lady Jennifer Carson was delightfully unconventional. But how far would she want to stop revealing herself to his gaze? Once she came to realize that he was winning she might not be so relaxed and charming any longer. Maybe he should let her win now and then. Losing some of his own clothing might make things easier later on..._

 

They settled at the table, wine and whisky nearby, and decided on the rules. Poker was played in various versions, and Ben knew three or four. He was willing to play the version she was used to.

Jenny, too, knew several versions of the game. When Ben suggested she explain the rules to him so they could be sure to play the same game, Jenny mentally ran through what she knew. _Now which would be the best version to play with only two players participating? Since they didn't play for money, and so the stakes were not raised and raised, it was easiest to play five-card-draw._

"Well," Jenny started, "the way I learned Poker is that each player receives five cards. Then the players decide about which cards to keep and which to put away" - she deliberately didn't use 'game-speak' - "and for each card you put away you get a replacement card. Then you raise the stakes. This goes on and on as long as there are no more bets. Then everybody has to show their hand."

Ben nodded. That was 'five-card-draw', the Poker version known to and played by most people.

"Since we don't play for money, and we don't have pebbles or matches," Jenny continued with a radiant smile directed at Ben, "there is no sense in raising the stakes. So after we get new cards we just compare our hands."

Again, Ben nodded. _The elimination of raising the stakes repeatedly eliminated one of the best reasons for playing Poker, namely the skill to trick one's fellow-players and the chances to win even with a bad hand. If they played it the way she had explained it, then it would become a game in which luck - not skill - played the largest part in winning. Oh well... he didn't really mind... he had always been lucky._

And with his most charming smile he accepted her rules and the first deck of cards.

 

The first game was over almost as soon as it had begun. Ben had the most awful hand, and he was aware of it. Jenny only had two tens, but it was far better than anything he could present.

"Now, Mr. Warner, you shouldn't let me win just because I'm a woman," Jenny said with the most innocent look he had yet seen on her.

Ben smiled at her play-acting. _There were so many layers to this woman, he was sure she held a few secrets. More and more, his bet was on her having been an actress. Actresses didn't enjoy the best of reputations, and it would explain her coming across games like Poker and being able to talk like she did with this posh voice and the polished language. Perhaps there would be a chance to test out his theory... sometime later._

"I always aim to please a lady," Ben said.

"Well, Mr. Warner," Jenny said with a nod, "Please me, then. You lost."

Ben smiled, then took out his gun, a beautiful Schofield - the 'Hand of God' was safely stowed in a drawer on his ranch - and delicately put it on the table.

Jenny looked at him incredulously.

"The gun?"

"It's what I wear. And we said 'one piece of whatever we wear"."

Her looked changed from incredulous to angry to amused. Ben's smirk only grew wider because of it. _Gotcha, girl,_ he thought. But then she had herself under control again and smiled a sweet smile, demurely lowering her eyes.

_Yes, she must be an actress._ And he was enjoying her 'role-playing' enormously.

Jenny pushed the cards over to Ben.

"Your turn," she said.

The next hand was just as bad for Jenny as the last one had been for Ben. Jenny took off one of her shoes. Ben smiled. _Yes, that's what he had thought._ But the predictability of the situation didn't make it any less pleasing - quite the contrary. He was looking forward to quite an extended... _foreplay_...

 

After an hour the picture had changed drastically.

The wine bottle was almost empty, the whisky bottle emptied by half.

Ben was sitting opposite Jenny wearing only his long johns and his trousers while she was still wearing her dress, bodice and both stockings and pantaloons or whatever she was wearing to cover her sex. And he didn't relish losing! Ben could feel his blood begin to boil with anger and frustration.

Jenny had a hard time suppressing her smile. _He was a good player, but the game they played wasn't so much about skill as it was about luck. And she had simply been lucky enough to see him having to get undressed first. What an experience!_

 

_Another ten. That was it. He would definitely win this game._

Jenny sorted her cards, her eyes were serious. There wasn't much to sort. She had the most awful hand.

Triumphantly, Ben placed his cards on the table: three tens and two nines. Full House. Jenny's face fell. But she remained calm. After all, she was prepared.

Ben leaned back in his chair, folded his hands as if in prayer and rested them on his belly. He smirked at her expectantly.

Jenny took a deep breath, then she smiled back at him - a smile of pure sweetness. She stretched and arranged the folds of her skirt in a more becoming manner. Reaching into a small hidden pocket of the elaborate dress, she produced a small Derringer gun. Carefully, almost tenderly, she placed it on the table beside Ben's winning hand. Then she leaned back to savour his look...

 

Ben's look reflected his surprise: _she had done it again. This woman was incredible! Now, he might have suspected that a woman like Jennifer Carson was carrying a gun - especially since she travelled across the country all by herself. But to have this fact presented to him in the way she just had... it was... it was simply..._ He couldn't help smiling.

Jenny saw him smile at her audacity. _Oh, how she wanted to kiss those lips! The man opposite her was special. He was close to losing, and the Derringer gun had put him back yet another step. Most men didn't like losing - especially not to a woman. But he even seemed to enjoy it. - No,_ Jenny thought, _he didn't enjoy the losing, he enjoyed that she could surprise and outwit him. - A rare man, indeed!_

She took up the cards and dealt the next hands...

 

_Okay, so she had fooled him with the Derringer. But there was  hardly a needles-and-thread baggy in her pocket. So whatever she would take off at her next losing hand, would get him much closer to seeing a bit of naked skin..._

The next game went as he had hoped: Jenny lost again, and Ben's smirk as he raised his eyes from the cards to her face could only be described as lecherous.

"Well... whatever you choose to take off, lady..." was all he said.

Jenny smiled back at him - and raised her hands to undo one of her hairpins, placing it delicately on her losing hand. Ben's smile slid off his face. _A hairpin? ONE SINGLE HAIRPIN? How many pins did she wear, for God's sake? This was cheating!_

Jenny read his thoughts off his blazing eyes. She hesitated only another moment, and then - slowly and meticulously - she took out her hairpins one by one and piled them on top of each other. When her lush brown hair was all loose and fell well below her shoulders, she raked her fingers through it to make sure there were no more pins left. Then she picked them up, rose from her chair and walked to her dresser, placing the pins beside her brush. Her hair swung and bobbed as she moved, it looked _so soft._ When she returned to the table and sat down again, Ben didn't feel cheated any longer...

 

_Three Kings! He had lost again!_

Jenny couldn't keep serious at his stunned look. She laughed out, and clapped her hands in victory. Well, it was a special moment: he only wore his long johns and his trousers. And he _had_ emptied his trouser pockets of his wallet - she was pretty sure there was nothing left in those pockets. Now he would have to take off his trousers, and he would sit in front of her in only his long johns - the look of a long-time husband - while she still wore her bodice and dress, and in spite of her open hair and her shoeless feet still looked 'dressed'.

He threw his cards on the table, furious.

"Alright, lady," he bellowed, "have it your way! - But this I'll tell you: next game I win I will take a piece of your clothing off MYSELF!"

His anger was perfect play-acting. After all, getting undressed was what this game was about, wasn't it? But the woman in front of him couldn't know this. And her teasing had been so merciless that a little threatening and raging on his part felt only adequate.

He watched her eyes change: a light of uncertainty if not fear entered. _Well, she didn't know him, did she?_ She had already taken a risk by taking a complete stranger up to her room. And although he didn't mean to frighten her too much and would never dream of hurting her, his outburst had raised the stakes again and introduced a sizzling element of domination, perhaps danger to their game.

She lowered her head and took a deep breath to calm herself. _She was in a respectable hotel in the middle of a town, not a brothel. There were people nearby. She could always cry out for help._ And furthermore: Jenny's knowledge of men told her clearly that his sudden outburst was acted. _Taking off a bit of her clothing? Well, that was what this game was all about, wasn't it? So where exactly was the problem?_

When she had come this far in  her musings she raised her eyes again, her expression serious.

"Are you still playing?" she asked coolly.

Ben growled. It was the sound of a predator. He rose and took off his trousers. He placed the trousers on the back of his chair while Jenny watched his every move. Then he started undoing the buttons of his long johns...

Jenny was confused: _Why did he take off all his clothes? He only had to get rid of one piece._

When he had opened the buttons along his chest, Ben shrugged out of his sleeves. Then he deliberately turned and showed her his back while he pushed the long johns down and stepped out of them.

Jenny saw his back, his hips, his buttocks and his legs... but a moment later he had snatched his trousers from the chair and put them on again, buttoning them up before turning back to face her...

 

_That incredulous look of hers made it all so worthwhile! Naturally, she had expected him to get off his trousers, not his long johns. But sitting in front of her with his bare chest and his loose trousers accommodating his growing erection was much more preferable than facing her in the sobering cotton long johns - especially since his long johns were a much closer fit..._

As he sat down again, Ben's face gave nothing away, but this time it had been the tomcat who had licked the cream!

 

 

 

 


	6. The winner of the game

The next game looked promising for Jenny. With a triumphant smile she presented three eights.

Slowly and delicately, Ben laid his cards on top of hers; three queens, and the Ten and Jack of Spades. His look was serious: he would get to take a piece of her clothes off. Jenny wasn't quite sure of his mood when he stood up and walked around the table stopping in front of her.

_Did he really mean to 'take' off her clothes? Or would he rip them off her?_ She shivered inwardly. _The man was temptation on two legs, and she was really smitten with him. But she had won again and again, and he might just lose his patience._

Jenny reasoned that she didn't know him well enough to trust him as much as she instinctively did. The way he stood there - completely calm and controlled - unnerved her more than his previous roaring had. _What if there was a hidden side to him and he turned vicious?_

Then she saw him look at her and lick his lips. _No, he wasn't vicious. He waited on her to say something, to make a gesture that the idea he had forced on her would be accepted by her willingly._

Jenny turned in her seat towards him. His serious face relaxed and he smiled.

"Your stocking," he said.

Jenny was astonished. _Losing one stocking wouldn't change much. She still had her bodice and the dress to cover her body. After teasing him with the Derringer and the hairpins she would have expected him to take off her dress so she would have to sit in front of him in her undergarments with part of her breasts bared to his view. Especially since he was in the same situation himself. But he wasn't like that. He didn't want to put her in such a situation._ Jenny realized that - as strange as it might seem - he wanted her to remain 'the lady'; he refused to make her lose face.

She was surprised. Surprised and touched.

Ben knelt down and smiled up at her. Jenny smiled back and stretched out her leg. Her foot touched his thigh. His hand pushed up her skirt, but he lifted it only to her knee. Then his hand moved up under the skirt... higher... along her thigh until it found the garter that kept her stocking in place. For a short, sweet moment his hand wandered higher up to touch the bare skin above her stocking, and he gave it a soft stroke, but then the hand descended again to the garter. His other hand came to help, and - using both hands this time - he slowly dragged the garter down along her leg and over her foot.

It was a simple one, black, without lace to adorn it, more functional than decorative, but Ben inspected it anyway. Jenny held out her hand for him to hand it over, but before he did he raised the garter to his nose and the sparkle in his eyes took on a definitely lewd quality...

 

Jenny hadn't expected this gesture, and a hot wave swept over her. She was sure her face was flushed. _That man!_ Never before had she experienced such teasing, such provocation, and yet such... patience.

Ben handed her the garter, then he concentrated on her thigh again and on getting off the stocking. As before, his hands ran up along her leg until they found her flesh. But this time his warm hands didn't rest on her skin. They simply rolled the stocking off her leg in an even and steady movement.

Ben stopped at her ankle. Jenny took a deep breath. Then she moved to reach down to her foot to take off the stocking herself, but was stopped by what he did next. His hand slowly stroked her calf, kneading it ever-so-slightly; the second hand supporting her foot.

For a moment Jenny had to closer her eyes. The feeling was just too good! Then she observed him again. He was in no hurry. His hand stroked her calf and then her skin. Afterwards it came to rest on her knee, warm and steady. He looked up and into her eyes. Jenny could see that his eyes were calm, the look in them... tender. He gave a little half-smile. Jenny was so wet she could feel her juices drip along her thigh. _If his hand had sneaked up along her thigh higher, he might have discovered this. Thank God he hadn't!_ As if in answer to her thought his nostrils flared. Jenny almost fainted. _Now. He should take her now!_

_Had she really given a little moan?_ She wasn't sure.

With a gentle touch, Ben rolled the stocking off her foot and handed it to her. Then he stood up and reached over the table. From his winning hand of three queens he took the Queen of Hearts and tenderly placed it in her lap. When he moved to go back to his seat Jenny rose quickly. She placed a hand on his arm to stop him. The card tumbled on the floor.

"No," she said. It was spoken softly, but her tone of voice was unmistakable. Her hands reached for him, and in a quick movement he turned towards her and moulded his body to hers. His hands gripped into her waist and hair, and he pressed her into a hard kiss. He felt her lips on his, her mouth opened willingly, and her body melted in his arms. Her hands were in his hair - pressing him to her as hard as he held her to himself!

When they came up for air Jenny looked into his eyes.

"The bed," she whispered before she moved away from his embrace. Quickly, he bent down and snatched her up. It was a new feeling for her: never before had a man carried her in his arms. Only a few steps, and Ben lowered her down gently in front of her bed.

He looked at her as she stood there in front of him. _What a prize!_ His hand moved to her décolletage and he caressed her skin softly, from her throat over her collarbone, for a sweet moment dipping his fingers between her breasts. Then he withdrew his hand and turned to her back to open the laces of her dress and bodice. Bodice and dress fell at the same time, and both of them laughed: Jenny stood stark naked in front of him, clad in one black stocking!

Still laughing, Jenny sat down on the bed and rolled the second stocking off her leg while Ben got rid of his trousers. Then he advanced towards her, pushing her back to lie on the bed.

Jenny expected him to enter her right away. But again she had to realize that this man was full of surprises. The men who had once paid for her services had never taken time to caress her skin and linger over her breasts as he did... _It was... it was... simply wonderful._ She couldn't keep still, couldn't keep quiet.

 

Her moans sounded sweet in Ben's ears. He was swept away by the fact that this woman - whoever she was - had given herself over to him so uncompromisingly. _She wasn't a whore he paid for what she did. She was free to refuse him; she was free to choose any man she wanted. And she had chosen him! What a feeling this was._  His mouth moved south, licking at her navel for a short moment, but inexorably moving further...

Only one man in her life had ever done this for Jenny - and it had been a long time ago. For a fleeting moment memories of her dead husband Jim entered her mind, but they were completely erased when she felt Ben's hands expertly touching her.

_This man knew exactly what he was doing!_ Feeling his hands touch her folds she only wished one thing: that he would take his time. She didn't want this feeling to end.

_The way she had sighed and then given herself over to him was absolutely intoxicating. As if she trusted him with her life._ At that moment, all Ben wanted was to make the experience good for her - as good as possible.

Although he didn't know her body yet and couldn't know what she would like best, something always worked - both for men and women: the longer it took to find release, the more intense and satisfying it was. So the trick was to tease and excite her without pushing her over the edge too soon...

 

_She couldn't... she simply couldn't... endure this... any longer..._

"Please..." she panted, capitulating.

Only after hearing her beg he complied, assaulting and concentrating on her little nub. His previous teasing was gone, in its place an urgent request, almost a command... demanding, forceful. It took only a few more seconds...

She came with a scream.

She was writhed so much in that sweet agony he had submitted her to that he had had to place his second hand on her belly to keep her in place, and as he pressed her down he could feel her orgasm under his hand as her belly fluttered. His fingers inside her were squeezed hard, and he moved them slightly to make her enjoy the moment more. Then he felt her hands search him and grip into his shoulders.

She tried to guide him on top of her. She needed his hug, and Ben understood and complied.

It didn't take long for her to come down from her high, and it was only when she smiled at him and moved to open her legs and invite him in that he entered her... slowly... carefully... his urgent need gone, replaced by a strange tenderness he couldn't remember ever having felt for a woman before.

_It felt so right. Why was that?_

Most of the women he had bedded had been too skinny for his taste. Rarely had Ben found one lush and soft enough to make him think of a cushion and a warm haven to sink into. _This woman was everything he had ever dreamed of. Or was it that the extended foreplay of almost two hours of playing Poker and half a bottle of whisky worked just like the repeated teasing and denied release had done for her?_

There were so many games of sex. Having lived in a brothel as a boy of nine and visiting saloon girls all his life, Ben was familiar with most of them. But what happened here was a first for him: more than his body and more than his mind with which he always controlled any situation he was in, his emotions were engaged. Feelings he had never allowed himself to explore welled up in him: the need to caress, the wish to please, the urge to give. And the one dominating feeling that ran through him was one he had never felt before, one that he couldn't fully invite into his consciousness yet: the wish to love and be loved back... _forever..._

 

 

 

 


	7. Getting to know each other

A bed with tangled sheets, a man and a woman wrapped up in each other's arms.

"Benjamin...?"

"Hmmm...?" The lazy sound of a man, thoroughly satisfied.

"We never found out who won the game."

His eyes stayed closed; there was a slight twitch of his lips blossoming into a smile... _How she loved that smile!_

"I guess we both won." His hand rested on her hip; he softly stroked her skin.

_A warm, soft woman, still smelling of their recent strenuous activity._

A small hand travelled from his beard along his throat onto his chest, while her soft body snuggled up to him. The hand travelled down further and further still... until she held and stroked him softly. _That woman knew exactly what she was doing. And the way she did it was both immensely arousing and at the same time strangely tender, almost loving._

Ben heaved a sigh. _Life didn't get much better than this._

 

 

Early the next morning, when Ben opened his eyes and remembered where he was, he decided to take the day off. Ever since he had bought his ranch he had toiled at building barns, repairing fences, tending to horses...and he was sick and tired of it. _How, for Heaven's sake, were those farmers and ranchers able to do this a whole lifetime long? - Anyway, a few days away from the ranch wouldn't hurt anybody. He could do with some distraction._

And with a satisfied smile he snuggled up close to the still sleeping woman and proceeded to wake her with hands and lips.

 

 

"Tell me about yourself, Jenny."

They were walking along the main street of Indian Springs, enjoying the sunshine, drawing the eyes of the townspeople.

"What is it you want to know?"

He smiled at her. "Whatever you are willing to tell me."

She smiled back.

"There is not much to tell, really. I am a very average person with a very dull life."

She could see his smile widen; it creased up the corners of his eyes.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" he said.

"But it's true."

_Drat. What should she tell him? That for two years she had been the wife of a rich man? That at his death she had found herself penniless? That there had been no other way to survive than to sell herself in the brothels of St. Louis?_

Jenny sighed, lost in thought.

_San Francisco... it symbolized a new life for her. A life in which she might actually enjoy the company of people again. People who didn't know about her past and, therefore, didn't see the 'whore' in her. People who looked upon her as an equal. San Francisco..._

 

Ben was watching her closely.

_A moment ago she had been open and relaxed. And now, suddenly, she was withdrawn. Why was that? Ben’s instinct told him that she was hiding something. But what might that be?_

They walked on in silence. Jenny had taken his arm earlier, and their strides were in perfect concord.

_Didn't she want to tell or was she just lost in thought?_ Ben wasn't sure.

His second hand came up to cover her hand on his arm and he squeezed it slightly.

 

_He expected an answer. But what was she to tell?_

Jenny stopped and looked at him.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself instead?"

He laughed.

"What is it you need to know about me aside of already 'knowing' me?" he asked smugly.

Jenny didn't answer right away.

_What did she want to know? - 'Everything', her mood said. That man was more than met the eye. She was sure of it. There was a dominating masculinity about him, almost a latent danger, that was insufficiently masked by his suave behaviour and that touched a spot deep within her soul. Who was this man?_

 

When she only looked at him without answering, Ben did a quick a appraisal of what he wanted her to know. He had never had any problems with lying to other people or making up a believable story. His life had depended on it far too often for him to feel guilty about such a thing. However, as he looked into her full, soft face he found he didn't want to lie to her. _But then, he couldn't tell the truth, could he?_

"I spent my life all over the country," he started, "...mostly in Arizona..." - _'and in Mexico whenever I had to cross the border to escape the law',_ he added in his thoughts.

He could see that she was observing him seriously.

_If he didn't pay attention, he might tell her something her shrewd little mind might add up to a conclusion he didn't want her to reach._

"Was always on the move," he shortened the story of his life to a mere sentence, "decided about two years ago I had enough of it and wanted to settle down. Took me a while to find the right place. And here's where I ended up, buying myself a ranch and breeding horses."

 

Jenny nodded understanding. Unknown to him this was very much what she felt at the moment, too: the need to settle down, the need to leave her old life behind - the need to find a home. San Francisco...

"Last year was when horses died everywhere in the country," Ben continued. "When I saw this ranch in Indian Springs, there were only a dozen horses left: a few mares and their foals, some stallions... mostly the younger, stronger ones. Rancher was too old to start anew. He told me he wanted to go to Carson City, live a quiet life there. So I bought the ranch off him. And now I'm tryin' to build it up again," he ended.

 

_Of course! The horseflu! The whole of the United States had been prostrate. There had been no transportation, no postal service, nothing!_

"I remember," she said. "St. Louis was like a city in deep sleep. There was no transportation at all. Even the grocery shops were getting desperate, because there wasn't enough food being brought into town. - If it hadn't been for the railroad, people in St. Louis would have starved to death!"

An unwanted memory rushed through her: a memory of herself and the other girls in the brothel selling themselves for a bowl of soup!

 

Ben watched her thoughtful expression, but his own thoughts ran in quite a different direction.

_The railroad... funny that the railroad he had been robbing for so many years of his life would be the saviour of the city in such a situation._

For a moment Ben was reminded of his old adversary Grayson Butterfield - of him, and of young William Evans.

The smell of blood rose in his nose again, the smell of Dan Evans' and Charlie Prince's blood, and he relived the moment when young William Evans had lowered his gun, deciding NOT to shoot him.

_Young William. Where might he be now? - Probably still tending his father's ranch together with his little brother. Or maybe, just maybe, he had taken flight and had become a desperado in search of more than just hard work..._

 

Jenny had observed his eyes go through a quick succession of emotions - emotions she knew he wouldn't voice aloud. He wasn't the man to wear his heart on his sleeve. Those memories hadn't been good; she had seen it in his eyes. She didn't really want him to remember the bad times in his life.

"Tell me about your ranch," she said, hoping to drag him away from whatever troubled him.

"My ranch?"

She nodded.

"What do you want to know?"

At that she smiled. "Whatever you are willing to tell me."

He laughed and his arm, in which he still held hers, drew her closer. They started walking along the streets again.

"I've only just started. There are not as many horses as the ranch could have. I need more mares and plenty more meadows for grazing and feed for the winter. But," - here he smiled, his mind's eyes leaping ahead into the future, - "another two or three years, and I will have the horses I want. And the ranch will yield money," he added.

"Who do you sell your horses to?"

"The army. There's still skirmishes with the Indians. The soldiers always need new horses."

 

_Now, here was an idea to pursue,_ Jenny thought. _After all, he hadn't really told anything about himself, had he? And he wasn't a simple rancher. He was a man used to thinking and planning, a man used to giving orders..._

"Were you an army officer?" she asked him curiously.

Ben laughed.

"No. I ain't been no army officer."

And when she looked a bit contrite at his open laugh, he added, "sorry to disappoint you."

At that remark, Jenny smiled her soft smile. "I am not disappointed.

She had met army officers in the brothel in St. Louis, and they hadn't left behind good memories...

 

Ben smiled down at her.

"Your turn now, lady."

Jenny sighed. "I am from Chicago. I was married to a wonderful man. But, unfortunately, our marriage lasted only two years. Jim died of pneumonia."

At these words her memories got the better of her, and Ben could see how two tears slowly... silently... ran along her cheeks.

"We used to travel all over the country. The last city we were in was St. Louis. We meant to go to San Francisco. But then, he fell ill..."

A pause. Ben observed how her face changed from the sad expression her memories had evoked into a soft smile. Then, as her thoughts moved on, her face turned serious again.

"I..."

_She shook her head. No. She didn't mean to tell any of the nightmares she had to go through after Jim's death. And she most certainly didn't intend to tell him about her time in the brothel._

"It wasn't easy for me," she summed up the last fifteen years in one sentence and looked straight at Ben.

"And now I am going to San Francisco to fulfil our dreams," she ended her tale, leaving Ben to his thoughts.

 

_Her husband had taken her all over the country. Must have been rich then. The way she talked and behaved... not quite the restrained, ever-so-correct way of a lady. So she must have known a different life, too. Perhaps she really had been an actress. Wasn't the first time a rich man didn't marry his own kind, but chose a more vivacious girl instead._

Ben imagined her at the side of some dried-up old coot who tried to find his youth in her vivacity.

_The man had probably used his money to shower her with jewellery, clad her in the most expensive robes, and pamper her with good food in elegant restaurants... all for the usual deal, of course._

_And yet: her voice had sounded sad. She really seemed to have liked him. And now she was a rich widow... on her way to a flashy city... establishing herself there in society..._

For a moment he imagined her walking the elegant streets of San Francisco.

_She would soon be part of society, able to have any man she wanted... any life she reached out for... So what if she was an ex-actress in search of a better life? He of all people should be able to understand that one might want to shake off an old skin and grow a new one..._

_And whatever or whoever she had been once didn't really matter, because he was quite charmed by the woman she was NOW... intoxicated even... lured in..._

As they were walking along slowly, Jennifer Carson was the first woman in all his life Ben Wade felt he wanted to get to know beyond the biblical sense of the word. The first woman he wanted to get really close to. As close as it was possible to get...

 

 

 

 


	8. Memories of the past

They had reached the end of the main street at the end of town and Ben proceeded to lead Jenny towards a smaller street when a wagon rumbling along came up behind them.

Instinctively, Ben pushed Jenny away and behind him shielding her from the wagon and the dust the vehicle inevitably stirred up. Jenny hid her face against his jacket lapel and coughed.

"Let's get you out of here," he said softly as hr guided her into a side street that was too small to accommodate wagons.

 

A warm feeling had rushed up in Jenny at his action, a feeling she hadn't encountered since her late husband had shared her life more than fifteen years ago. _That was how it felt to be protected,_ she thought thinking of the past.

But a moment later, she had herself under control again, firmly suppressing the feeling of safety which had welled up in her and that had nearly swept her away.

_There was no sense in letting this particular feeling overwhelm her. She wouldn't ever be protected by anybody again. And there was no real need to; for the last fifteen years she had proved that she was quite capable of protecting herself._

And yet - the sweet taste of this particular emotion's aftermath was not easy to get rid of...

 

"Tell me about your life in St. Louis," Ben asked Jenny, intent on finding out more about what she wanted from life.

"St. Louis?" Jenny echoed. She didn't want to tell him of the brothel. And there weren't really any other memories she had of the city, apart from her husband's death.

"St. Louis is a very elegant town. It has many good restaurants," she started but then didn't know how to continue.

"I heard it is a town where a man can have quite a lot of fun," Ben remarked, trying to provoke her.

Her eyes sparkled at his words. Then, very quickly, she controlled her eyes and face into the appropriate expression for a high-born lady; a proper shock at his words.

"Mr. Warner. I am sure I know nothing about such things," she replied haughtily; and Ben laughed aloud at her slipping so easily into her 'role' and assuming a tone of dignified outrage.

 

_No. Of course he wouldn't believe her. Not after their wonderful, intimate time together. And, truth was, protective though her husband had been he had once taken her to a dance hall to introduce her to that type of life - as a spectator and under the safety and protection of his presence._

Jenny sniggered.

"To be absolutely honest, I once accompanied my husband to a dance hall," she confessed to Ben's astonishment.

"He took you to a dance hall?"

She nodded.

"Yes. I had asked him about such establishments and why the men seemed to love them so much, and he told me I could never form an opinion of my own if I hadn't seen one for myself. - So we went to a dance hall and watched the girls dance CanCan..."

" _CanCan?_ " Ben echoed suspiciously. The way she had said this implied that there had been more to it than just the dance...

"Well..." Jenny shrugged her shoulders, "at first I was shocked that they didn't seem to wear any pantaloons, but then I saw the men react... and I understood... well... I mean..." Jenny fell silent.

_She had meant to find that light, teasing way of speaking with him again, but the tale she had picked had taken her right back into her own past... fifteen years ago she had still been rather innocent, the young wife of a much older, experienced man. The visit to the dance hall, a visit that had really taken place, had shocked her profoundly at the time...._

A blush heated up her face right down to her décolletage...

 

_She was delicious that way! As uninhibited as she was between the sheets, these memories still made her blush like a young girl. The way her teeth burrowed into her lower lip as proof of her embarrassment and in order to control her feelings... she was so loveable... she was so..._

Ben firmly shook himself out of the temptation to kiss her in the middle of the street!

"So St. Louis was quite a wild time for you," Ben summed up her tale.

_'Wild'... if only he knew... after Jim's death when his family had withdrawn all the money and all their possessions from her, and she had re-visited that very dance hall in order to find a job... No! It was over. She had left. And with it she must leave the memories behind, or she could never start a new life. Never!_

 

"Tell me about your time in San Francisco," Jenny said. "I believe that's much more interesting than St. Louis."

Walking slowly beside him, Jenny snuggled up as best she could. _Whatever he was willing to tell her, it would be better than her remembering St. Louis. And the slightest information about the man beside her was interesting and... exciting._

Ben was quite willing to comply. San Francisco was a safe subject. It was a place where he hadn't committed any crimes. He had arrived there with his pockets full of money from his latest robbery and had stayed until his last cent had been spent. _But, naturally, he couldn't tell her that. So what could he let her know that didn't lead to her finding out about him?_

"I told you already, I don't have too many memories of the city itself," he said.

Jenny smiled. "Then tell me about the girl. How old were you when you met her?"

Ben had to think. "About twenty-five, I guess. Don't know for sure." He gave her a serious look. "Old enough."

At that she laughed. _Imagine that man at 25. A young stud, full of cockiness, full of himself, full of the innocence of youth. He must have had the time of his life in a city like San Francisco._

"And did she teach you?"

Ben hid his smirk as best he could. _Well, it had rather been the other way around. With him having grown up in a brothel and the girl giving her cherry to him... oh well... he couldn't tell her that, could he?"_

"Well..." he pursed his lips, not yet sure what to say, "let's just say... we both learned a lot."

"How long did you stay?"

"Not long. A few weeks."

"She was probably heartbroken when you left her." _She must have been,_ Jenny thought. _And he, too, had sounded a bit wistful whenever he had mentioned the girl... as if regretting that he had left her behind all this time ago..._

His smile was almost bashful now. _Jenny's opinion of him was too rose-coloured. 'Heartbroken?' - No. No woman would ever be heartbroken because Ben Wade was moving on..._

 

He spotted her still looking at him in that intense expression she sometimes had.

"Tell me," she insisted, and so he invoked again memories of a time in his life that had, for once, held more than robbing and killing...

_At first, they had been fooling about like two innocent kids... running through the bushes, rolling in the undergrowth... Then their explorations of each other had become more serious, more urgent..._

_That delicious moment when he had first kissed her... that magical day when she had taken off her blouse for him to see... that final victory when he had entered her, her eyes first dancing with delight but then overflowing when she became aware of the graveness of her step... those irises dancing with emotion... green like the ocean..._

 

"We were like two foals in the sunshine," he finally said smiling into Jenny's eyes. "Not really grown-up yet."

"How old was the girl?"

"I don't know. She never said. Perhaps fifteen or sixteen. But she did tell me that our meetings could only last until her father came back. He was out on the ocean."

"How did you hide your love?"

"We met at a boulder near the docks. From there we would walk out into the woods, so nobody could see us." He chuckled. "We met every day."

Jenny smiled. _The girl must have been besotted with him. No wonder._

"And she managed to fool her mother?"

"No." Ben shook his head. "Her mother knew of me. But she didn't mind. She actually liked me. And she would never have betrayed the girl to her father."

"But her father was a problem?"

"He was a harsh man. They were all scared of him. Once his ship docked in the harbour, they insisted I had to leave..."

They looked at each other and Jenny saw that feeling of regret wash over his face again. _So he had harboured feelings for the girl._

"We played... we..."

He fell silent, somehow at a loss for words to capture the mood he felt himself slip into. Then, spurred on by her unwavering look, he added, "...it was a good time while it lasted." With this his voice died away.

" _Playing..._ " Jenny repeated wistfully. _Perhaps they could play a game of their very own when they were back in her room later on... perhaps a game of a more grown-up nature..._

 

 

 

 


	9. Playing a game

They had barely closed the door behind them when Ben's arms encircled her waist. He playfully bit her earlobe growling 'surrender'.

"No!" She struggled in his arms, but he just held her tighter and his mouth searched her ear whispering "don't challenge me, lady."

Jenny laughed. _He was wonderful that way!_

She tried to fight back, but to no avail. His strength - and the fact that she couldn't stop giggling - gave him all the advantage.

When he finally let her go, they were both on the bed, undressed, totally dishevelled and laughing. Jenny sank back with an exhausted sigh.

"My, my... you really like to play, Benjamin, don't you?" she said.

"Yeah... with you," he retorted smartly, and his fingers found her nipple and massaged it.

_He was about to make her surrender. She had to be quick this time!_

"I wonder..." she started, then hesitated. She knew he'd pick up on her tone of voice and get curious.

"What?" Ben asked promptly, eliciting that cat-like smile from her lips.

"I wonder if you've got the nerve to play _a real game_."

Now she had his full attention, complete with amused smile and suspicious eyes.

"You said you like to play, didn't you, Benjamin?"

"I said I love playing _with you,_ Jenny."

"Hmmm..." She purred like a cat as his hand massaged her breast and his fingers played with her nipple. His eyes were locked on her lips and he came closer as if to kiss her, but then he changed his mind and his scratched her delicate neck while he held her head in place with his hand...

She giggled at the sensation, her legs kicking out. "No. I didn't mean this. At least not yet."

Abruptly he stopped and looked at her.

"Oh, come on, Benjamin, I know you love games, too."

He was still suspicious, but the eager look in her eyes won him over. _Whatever was on her mind, he would probably profit from going along with it._

"Alright, honey, what do you want to play?"

She rolled out of his arms and out of bed. He stretched and propped himself up on his elbow watching her, too lazy to follow, knowing that - eventually - she would end up in bed, anyway.

Jenny picked up her bodice from the floor and hooked it up, then she put on her blouse and slipped into her skirt fasting it. Ben was confused.

_What the hell was on her mind? Going downstairs when they could have fun here? - Maybe she was hungry. He, too, could do with a steak after all their fooling around._

She smiled at him that smile of hers: a cat having licked the cream dish but wanting more. _What was she up to now?_

"I want us to take on different personae," she said.

"What?"

"I mean for us to play roles."

"Oh..." _Here it was. If he still needed any proof that she was an actress, that was it._

"And what role do you want me to play?"

"Hm..." She looked him up and down, relishing the sight of him stretched out before her in his naked state. _Such a masculine man. 'Rancher' didn't fit him. She needed something harder, something with an edge._

"You know, you don't make a very convincing rancher, Benjamin," she voiced her thoughts.

Ben's face fell. _What did she mean? Had he been played all the time, and she had seen him before? Did she know he was Ben Wade?_

He jumped out of bed and approached her, his eyes suspicious.

Jenny laughed her pearly laughter.

"Don't look so crestfallen, Benjamin. I only mean that you can be so much more than just a rancher."

"Uh...huh." _Lady, you have no idea!_ \- But if she wanted to play he was game. Only not just yet. They hadn't eaten all day and he was hungry.

"You are such a man," she purred. Her hands were roaming over his chest. Involuntarily, his hands came around her waist to draw her closer to his body.

"And what do you want this man to be?" His voice was low in her ear. She gave an involuntary shudder - a reaction that made him smile.

"Be something dangerous, Benjamin, like a wild animal," she demanded. Her voice was husky with want.

"You want an animal, lady?" Ben repeated, shaking. "No, Jenny. That's not what you want."

"No." She, too, shook her head. "But I need someone who can be both soft _and_ hard."

" _'Hard'?_ " he inquired, rubbing his beginning erection at her groin. They both laughed.

"You know what I mean..." Jenny started but was stopped by a ferocious kiss, a kiss that left her panting.

"I know, darlin'," he said, his voice husky, too. "You want a bandit riding into town, dragging you away on his horse... someone who surprises you... you want... an... _outlaw_." He spoke the word hesitantly; conscious of how close it still was to the truth. _Was that really a good idea?_ He wasn't sure.

Jenny only recognized his hesitation. _He had understood her wish. Naturally, an honest and law-abiding man would be scared as much as thrilled at the prospect of playing an outlaw - just like a kid pretending to be 'Sheriff'..._

"Will you play?" she whispered, their noses buried in each other's necks.

He nodded and tenderly licked the short way from her neck up to her earlobe.

"But... what will you be?" he asked her when he had released her from his grip.

"Oh... I'll be..." She hesitated. "I don't know, really."

 

Ben looked at her, his eyebrows raised in an expression both of amusement and expectation. His hand picked up a stray hair strand and played with it.

"You know, darlin'," he said wistfully, "an outlaw doesn't get to know a real lady. Most he can do is pass her on the street, look at her from afar. You'd have to be someone different..."

His smile seemed to suggest something, but Jenny wasn't sure.

"Oh..." she pouted, disappointment heavy in her voice, "you wouldn't dare approach me?"

He smiled but didn't answer.

"But what else could I be but a lady?" she asked. _Drat! It seemed being a whore was easier than getting to play one! He thought her a lady. How was she to come up with the suggestion of playing a whore without giving anything away? - There was only one way: she would have to make_ him _say it._

"Perhaps you could pretend I am one of those women serving in a shop... perhaps a grocery..."

His amused look told her he didn't take her words seriously.

"Nah, honey..." He shook his head. "Only women an outlaw ever dares approach are working in a saloon..." _There. He had given her a blunt hint to act upon. Now it was her place to act._

"So I could be a woman serving you... a beer," she said.

He shook his head, smiling widely at her talent of not saying what was so obvious to them both.

"You don't want me to serve you a beer?" She pouted with lips and voice, her eyes huge, her face a perfect mask of innocence. _That woman could really act._

"I'd take the beer from you, honey, but if you weren't available why look at you?"

"So what could I be?" Her voice had changed. It was soft and serious now. She looked up at him, all artifice gone. She needed _him_ to say it. Or she couldn't keep up her 'lady' image.

He realized she wouldn't give in. It was up to him to name her role.

"In order for us to play this game proper, Jenny, you'd have to be a whore."

He was watching her closely, and Jenny was aware of it. _Damn the man! He knew exactly that she wanted him to go there and was watching her closely for her slightest reaction! She didn't mind the role, but realized that it was a bit too close to the truth for comfort._

_Now to the present predicament: She was still pretendeingto be a lady. How would a lady react to the suggestion of something so lewd?_

She didn't know what to do. To win time, she withdrew from his embrace and with her fingers combed her hair out of her face. Ben straightened, then he picked up his trousers, shirt, vest, and boots and got dressed.

"Benjamin...?" Her voice mirrored her confusion. _Why did he want to leave all of a sudden?_

He turned to her while buttoning up his vest.

"I'll get us some food." He smiled. "Playing with you makes a man real hungry..." He grabbed his hat and his wallet.

_What a soft smile she had!_

At the door he turned again, handle in hand.

"Prepare yourself to serve a hungry man, honey."

The door closed behind him and Jenny's emotions ran a quick gamut from excitement to scoffing to downright scare. _He could really be intimidating when he used that honeyed voice of his. Intimidating, and oh-so-sexy!_

 

 

Half-an-hour later Ben was back carrying a tray of food, another bottle of red wine for Jenny, and a bottle of whisky for himself. She had dressed and pinned up her hair, a heavy make-up and an oversized pendant resting below her throat rounded off her new 'role'. For a moment Ben was shocked at the change: she looked like first-class whore! Quickly, he slipped into his 'role', too.

"Good day, Ma'am," he drawled and touched the brim of his hat. "I hear you render... _intimate services_ to... hungry men like me." His eyes sparkled as he put down the tray. _Had his lips twitched slightly?_ Jenny wasn't sure. But she could see that he was already 'in character'. And hugely enjoying it! So she better assume her 'role'. Smiling to herself she slipped into something that for fifteen years had been second nature to her.

"I do, indeed. But I don't give my services to just anybody."

"Oh..." Ben smiled, "you are someone special." His mouth puckered, and the derogative gaze he examined her with nearly provoked her to backhand him. She paled at the thought.

He really acted like an outlaw; derisive, dangerous, unpredictable. When she had left St. Louis she had hoped to leave this type of man behind forever. Why had she conjured up that idea? It was sheer madness! But she knew how to deal with such men, and inside herself she flipped a switch that gave her back her superior stance. _What had he joked about? 'Special'?_

She smiled a sweet smile at him. "That's right. I am special." _Damn it, she_ was _special! And this was only a game, for God's sake! How could a mere look from him make her lose her resolve to see this through to the hilt?_

"And just _what_ is your specialty?" The way he said the word it sounded almost insolent.

_No. He wouldn't draw  her out so easily. She had been servicing men for fifteen years. And there had been quite a few outlaws among them, outlaws who somehow had acquired enough money to pay for her services, whether by means fair or foul she didn't care. She had been at those men's beck and call - just because they had had the money to buy her. And no matter what they had done, no matter how they meant to treat her, she had prevailed by calling upon her acting skills and slipping into a role, hiding behind a mask._

_The man in front of her was not like these men had been. He wasn't even a real outlaw. He was just acting the part. All she had to do was act her part, too. What was it again he had asked about? Her 'specialty'?_

She smiled artfully.

"Oh... I am not limited in my services as some are. I can give you anything you want, Mister."

 

_Not bad. She was doing real well. Those full, red lips... he just wanted them to... 'not limited', eh?_

"Okay, honey, so give me what I want."

"Ah..." she smiled seductively up at him, then deliberately dropped her play-acting and asked seriously, "but a whore would ask for advance payment, wouldn't she, Benjamin?"

Ben smiled and nodded. _She was right, of course._

"And how much do you charge, darlin'?" he asked her, his voice like honey. Jenny decided she better slip back into her role.

"Well... that depends on what you want, Mister, doesn't it?" she said hoarsely. Her behaviour was so artificially sultry Ben laughed out loud. There was no doubt that this woman was an accomplished actress.

"Let's see... I want _you_... the whole night... what will that cost me?"

She smiled and hesitated, realizing a certain dilemma: she had no idea what the saloon girls took in a godforsaken place like Indian Springs. In the brothels of St. Louis where she had resided, a good night's work could earn her as much as 100 dollars! But then, St. Louis was a costly town and couldn't be compared to a small place like this.

Naturally, Ben had picked up on the hesitation. He smiled inwardly. He was wondering what price she would name. _Could a woman of quality even guess what the saloon girls were doing, and - more to the point - for how little money they had to get on their backs?_

"Me... $5... the _whole_ night, that's another $10... and if you want anything _special,_ then that's another $10..."

 The way she mouthed 'special' made him sweat. He took out his walled and pulled out all his money. It was a stack of dollar bills worth perhaps $50 or more.

"Now, let's see...$5, plus $10 for the night, plus $10 for something special... that's $25." He started counting the bills but gave up in the middle of it. He let the whole stack of bills drop on the table; then he crossed to her, took her tenderly by her shoulders and pulled her in close so that his mouth was at her ear. "Here's what I want, honey: I want you on your knees in front of me. I want that sweet mouth of yours wrapped around me," he whispered not sure how she would react to his bold request but unable to resist making it anyway.

 

_By God, his whispering made her even wetter._ When she heard what he dreamed of she had to closer her eyes for a moment and fight a dizziness that came from a hunger she had never known before. Hunger for a man. No, that wasn't it. It was hunger _for that man!_  It burned her, raising her temperature like a fever.

She already knew what he could do. But he didn't know yet what she was capable of. So she softly removed herself from his embrace and started opening the buttons on his vest.

When Ben realized that she had already started her game without negotiating any further he couldn't quite believe it. _Had she really agreed to suck him off?_ He wanted to ask but hesitated: if he did she could turn the game around and back off. And he sure wanted to play this to the hilt.

After she had removed his vest, she opened the buttons on his shirt. Tenderly stroked over his chest. When he had dressed to fetch their food he hadn't put on his long johns knowing the clothes would come off his body again anyway; and her hands relished the feel of his bare chest before they moved up to his shoulders and neck. She would have loved to take his face in her hands and bend it down to kiss him, but her role said: no. So her hands moved from his neck inside his shirt to his shoulders, her movement indicating that he should help her shrug his shirt off.

The shirt fell to the floor. His eyes didn't leave her for a second. Softly pushing him a step back she made him sit down on the bed and began pulling off his boots. He didn't help her; instead he fixed his eyes on her every movement. _She certainly knew how to undress a man. But then she had admitted to having been married once. No need to get suspicious of her now._

 

While Jenny kept undressing him she took the opportunity to touch him in places normally out of reach, places that were neglected even during love-making: his feet, his wrists, his palms and fingers. She had seen countless men, but he was one of the most beautiful, masculine men she had ever laid eyes upon. Tenderly, almost reverently, her fingers caressed from his hands along his arms up to his shoulders, cradled his neck and then roamed along his chest. Then she made him stand up so she could remove his pants.

Her touches made Ben aware of changes in his body. The work on his ranch had made his body harder, more muscular than it had been while lazing around as an outlaw. The way she touched him indicated that his body pleased her, and he couldn't help feeling valued - and proud.

 

She had stripped him completely now, leaving him naked in his glory while she was still fully clothed. Touching his skin only lightly with her fingertips, she guided and pushed him gently towards the armchair and made him sit down.

Ben smiled to himself. _It had been fun letting her strip him, seeing her so seriously at work in her role, managing to play the whore so earnestly. But in spite of the make-up that adorned her face, she still hadn't quite succeeded in shaking off the lady in her. That was what she was first and foremost: a lady. A passionate, tempestuous woman, too, yes, but her porcelain face, her silken skin, her elegant movements, and her classy speech made it impossible for him to forget she was only trying to fill a role. Still: she was pretty good at it._

He let her guide him towards the huge armchair, and he sank down on it with a smile choosing a comfortable, lazy position, spreading his knees and stretching his legs all by himself. His smile up at her eyes was all challenge. He didn't believe she would really go through with it.

That was, until she knelt down in front of him and looked him in the eyes. What Ben saw there confused him and threw him off course: her eyes displayed pure lust.

 

The need to touch him again became urgent: her hands touched along his thighs and she waited for a signal from him. She could see it in his eyes: he didn't quite believe she would do his bidding. For a moment he looked confused, perhaps even scared. She hoped fervently he wouldn't bolt. A moment later she saw the actor in him take over again: his insecurity had lasted only a second, then he had himself under control again. He squeezed his eyes to small slits at the touch of her hands along his thighs - not quite wanting to close them completely - but still enjoying her touch so much that he could not help but tense and tilt his head back.

Her eyes begged him to let her continue. Her hands arrived at his groin. She opened her mouth still looking at him.

 

If he had needed any signal that she really intended to fulfil his dream this was it. Her action spoke so clearly that he held his breath. _She was actually going through with this! What would happen afterwards? Would she still be okay with it?_        

 Ben realized that Jennifer Carson had spoken the truth: she wouldn't back down on a bet, any bet. Even a game like this. Once she had set her mind to something, she disregarded the consequences. He remembered their Poker game and her motto 'no surrender'.

_Was it worth it to challenge her in such a way, to make her go so far just so he could 'save face'? Go too far, perhaps. Would she be able to look at herself in the mirror ever again?_ He sat up straight and his hands grasped her shoulders.

"Jenny..." he started.

 

She had seen the hesitation in his eyes. _He wanted to stop her. No doubt he did this for her own sake. After all, the 'service' he had required was given only by whores - and not by all of them either! But he didn't know that she wanted him that way, that she had dreamed of doing this for him since after their first encounter. But, naturally, as a 'lady' she couldn't offer it to him, couldn't even suggest it, or her image would be destroyed. This 'game' had been the perfect opening for her to step beyond. She didn't want to be stopped._

"Please, Benjamin," she said, "let me do this. I want it."

His eyes held all the confusion and wonder he felt at that moment. _She wanted to do this?_

Already her hands touched his shaft and played with his balls. She slipped out of his grasp and rubbed her cheek along his length looking at him imploringly.

A hoarse moan escaped his lips. _If she wanted to do this, who was he to stop her?_ He sank back into the armchair, rested his head on the back rest, stretched his legs some more, and just let her continue.

 

It wasn't the first blow-job Jenny had given, far from it. But it was the very first time she really _wanted_ to do it. Fleetingly, she thought about the huge amount of money that was hidden in the seams of her bags. She had been able to gather so much in a relatively short time exactly because she hadn't shirked away from this particular service she was about to give to him. Her service was good, she knew this. And, by God, it had cost the men to make her get down on her knees and allow them between her lips instead of her thighs...

When her lips touched his head she could feel his member leap in her hand. He was hard... so hard. It probably wouldn't take more than a few minutes to satisfy him.

Slowly she took him in - very carefully. She didn't want this to be over quickly. His taste... his texture... the slightest of his movements... she was aware of it all. Nothing of this special moment escaped her. The total surrender of this man to her was like a gift he was giving her. A very special gift.

She worked on him slowly... too slowly for his taste. His hand came up to her head - but then he didn't grip her hair like she expected him to but diverted his hand again to the armchair's rest and gripped it hard. Jenny realized that even now his mind was still in control, and he didn't want to 'force' her to do anything! _What a special man he was._

_Yes, he was close._ She could feel it. He shifted in the chair, trying hard not to push himself into her. A feeling of warmth welled up in her, and with it the desire to make this good for him - to make it the best experience ever!

She had never allowed a man to finish in her mouth before, had never swallowed the semen of a man. But this was different. This man was hers! He had given himself over to her. The way he lay before her with his eyes closed and the strained expression on his face revealed more of him than all his self-assured behaviour, his smug smiles and his cutting remarks ever could.

"Please..." His whisper was so low, she almost missed it. But his body was speaking just as eloquently - if not more so. He was desperate to come, and she helped him along, increasing her speed, stroking, squeezing, sucking him, harder... and harder still... until he came with a groan.

 

She didn't take her mouth off him, but swallowed and  held him until he was completely spent and his member softened. Only then did she let go - her experience as exciting as his had been.

She looked at him as he reclined in the chair, all spent. His eyes were closed, and on his face was a soft smile. His head was tilted back, resting on the back of the armchair. His long wavy chestnut hair was wet from perspiration and clung to his forehead and cheek. He was the perfect picture of a lazy, satisfied lion resting in the sun after an abundant meal.

 

She rose and Ben could hear her rustle about, doing... something, but he was too satisfied to open his eyes. More rustling. _Sounded as if she was getting out of her clothes._

He smiled. He was still too sated to move or watch her. _If he was right, then she would come up close in a moment, and he would feel her soft skin on his. Then, he could repay her for what she had just done. No need to do anything but relax and wait..._

 

The food had to sit on the plate for another hour waiting until 'the outlaw and the whore' had finally finished their game... 

 

 

 


	10. The outlaw and the whore

"You know, Jenny, you make a lousy whore," Ben said picking up another piece of the now cold chicken, chewing it with relish.

"What?" She tried to look indignant but somehow she couldn't. After all, it was a flattering remark.

"Hmm... no matter what you do, you are still a lady."

"Do you think so?"

Ben smiled at her reaction: _haughty voice, raised eyebrow. She really was an accomplished actress._

"I know whores, Jenny, and you are not like them."

Jenny smiled. _That was what she  had intended for him to think._ In fact, it was this acting ability of hers that had made her the star in Amber Jones' brothel back in St. Louis - she simply could act out anything that was required. All she had to do was convince herself of her role and hide behind her make-up.

Jenny sighed. It was a wistful sigh full of regret. _This talent of hers was nothing she was proud of._

Ben was watching her closely. "You know, Benjamin, you don't make a good outlaw, either," she retorted to get him off track.

Like a flash of lightning, Ben grabbed her hard and his hand in her hair tore her head back. The plate of food tumbled on the bed and on the floor, but he was unfazed by it.

"You know nothing of me yet," he snarled, his voice low, his eyes dangerous, his body taut like a cougar's ready to pounce. His fingers gripped harder, and Jenny gave a yelp of pain. He didn't relent.

Brutally, he wrestled her onto her stomach with her hands forced behind her back while his body weight pressed her into the mattress.

"You know nothing about outlaws, honey... nothing!" His voice was low in her ear, threatening; and suddenly cold fear washed over her. She wasn't in Indian Springs any longer, she wasn't in a hotel room with a man she had just had passionate sex with... all that was left in her was panic - and the desperate wish to survive! She turned her head and meant to plead with him when she caught his eyes: cold, blue-green, piercing. The eyes of a killer!

 

Then, suddenly, Ben became aware of her fear. It hit him square in the stomach. Immediately, his hands released her arms and he rolled off her, for a moment closing his eyes in pain at what he had done. _He had hurt her!_

"Jenny..." he began to apologize.

The killer was gone. Jenny saw the man she had come to know so intimately emerge as if from a nightmare. His eyes radiated the shock and guilt he felt.

"Shhh..." Jenny calmed him with her fingers on his lips. _Whatever had happened a moment ago, it had nothing to do with the two of them._

But he couldn't allow such a soft touch yet. _He hadn't meant to go that far, hadn't meant to let loose so much,;couldn't understand how her harmless remark had unleashed such a reaction. Why would he need to show her that he could force her to his will? That he could be dangerous?_ He shook his head to clear it.

"Jenny, I'm sorry..."

She kissed him tenderly. Ben couldn't bring himself to kiss her back, not yet. The shock of what had just occurred was still too fresh. He pressed his fists against his eyes, desperately trying to find his balance again.

He opened his eyes. "Jenny..."

She smiled softly at his obvious pain. Tenderly caressing his beard she brought his face to hers. She fed on his lips until he could no longer remain passive, until there was nothing left in him but the need to feed on her, too, the wish to touch her softness, to bury himself in her and lose all track of time and place...

She broke their kiss.

"Make love to me, Benjamin," she begged him.

He smiled at her. This was _so easy to do..._

 

~~~

 

Even the most extensive exploration and pursuit of pleasure has to end eventually.

Their love-making had put them both back on solid ground. Forgotten was the horror of the game they had played and that had almost gotten out of control. For a while they rested in each other's arms, silently enjoying the other's company. But then the sunshine beckoned, and they decided to take a walk and get some fresh air.

 

They walked leisurely along the main street, their arms linked, their strides in concord.

Ben was talking about the plans for his ranch.

"We've got eight foals this year. They are on a meadow with their dams, playing in the sunshine. I've sold almost all stallions to the army, only kept the ones I need for breeding, and with the money that the last stagecoach brought, I'm gonna buy me some more mares, and I now have the necessary cash to buy a few other things I need as well."

His eyes sparkled as he spoke of his animals, and Jenny admired his profile.

"And you've only started a year ago?" she wondered.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Start wasn't easy, though," Ben added thinking back on the first couple of weeks.

_When he had bought the ranch the mares had already been in foal back then. The rancher couldn't tell Ben which stallion had been the sire because he had let the herd run free._

_On top of this, most of the stallions were too unruly to be handled properly. They were rarely saddled and ridden, and they fought back when lassoed and taken into the stables for shoeing._

_Since he horses ran free all year, there was only one stable with a few boxes; it was only used when horses were sick. But Ben wanted to make sure to have an eye on the foaling mares. And he wanted the youngsters to be trained properly before being sold. That way they would become much more valuable. And so the tasks of building more stables and more barns, to stock up on feed, tack and tools, and on top of that to get good ranch hands who knew how to handle horses had become important and had eaten up all of his time and energy._

_He still had money stashed away from his robberies - the ranch hadn't cost that much -and he meant to stash even more money once the ranch made a profit, but for the time being it was more important to put every cent into the ranch and build it up as it should be which meant work, and endless amount of work..._

 

"Boss!"

They turned at the sound, and Jenny saw a rider approach them and stop in front of them.

"John." Ben nodded at the man.

"You're needed on the ranch, boss," the man said.

"What's up?"

"Farrier is on the ranch, but he doesn't want to start without you paying him 80 dollars first."

Ben growled.

"I thought a man was paid _after_ he worked, not before."

"Yeah... well... you know how people are, boss. Newcomer always has to prove himself."

Ben nodded. He was still regarded somewhat suspiciously in town.

"Alright. I'm coming. Jones got my money in his bank. Wait for me there."

The man on the horse, a good-looking fellow with pitch-black hair, tilted his head towards Jenny. "Ma'am," he said politely, then turned his horse heading towards the bank.

Ben turned to Jenny. "I'm sorry. I've got to go."

Jenny nodded, a sad smile on her lips. It was only a small echo of the abyss she felt herself plunge into all of a sudden. _It had been a wonderful time. And she had known it could not last. Why was she so sad? ASsif her life was going to end..._

"I'll walk you back to the hotel," Ben offered but Jenny shook her head.

"The bank is right over there. There's no need to accompany me," she said. "Don't worry. I'll find my way."

She could see his eyes grow a shade darker. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said quietly before raising her hand to his lips and kissing it.

_Another two days in this town. What was she to do?_

 

When Ben had departed, Jenny walked on and on. She wondered how cold the world had become all of a sudden. Ben had draped his personality like a blanket around her. Warm and safe. A wagon passed her by, a bit too close for comfort. The dust settled on her dress and she coughed. She recalled how he had whipped her away from another wagon only hours before on their first walk through town.

And she realized that - even though she had always managed to take care of herself - she didn't want to prove to herself any longer that she was capable of doing this. In his arms she could let go - could grow into something she had never dared to be before: weak, dependent, helpless.

She stopped in the middle of her stride. _The stagecoach was due to leave the day after tomorrow. She didn't want to leave!_

 

She shook her head: _she must be crazy! For fifteen years she had been saving money to build up a new life, planned to go to a city where life was easy. Why spend her days in a no-name town like Indian Springs on a ranch with a man she didn't know? - But she DID know him. Their encounters had not only been about lust, although she had never been so completely satisfied before. With Benjamin Warner she had found something that she had lost a long time ago, something she had already forgotten existed: laughter. She had re-discovered the joy of life and love!_

_Love._

_Had she really thought LOVE?_

She hesitated only a moment, then she resumed her strides and her thinking.

_It was true, wasn't it? In the course of a few hours, with the intimacy of a poker game and a night spent safely in Benjamin's arms she had fallen in love with him. He was a man who couldn't be read easily. A man who was much more complex than he ledton to be. He held secrets she hadn't glimpsed yet, of this she was sure. Layers she could slowly unearth over the years to come..._

_And wasn't she a free woman? Ever since her husband had died and she had to sell her body to survive, she had been compelled to take fate into her own hands. She was grown-up now and quite capable of deciding what she wanted to do with her life, and who she wanted to be with..._

_She was here now, she had money, she was free, and she could do whatever she liked!_

 

Jenny turned into one of the few side streets and passed two matrons on her way. The women looked her over curiously and whispered behind her back as soon as she had passed but, naturally, they didn't dare address an unknown lady who was deeply in thought and didn't even acknowledge their presence...

_San Francisco..._

_It sounded like a challenge. It was the town her late husband had once told her about. But other than what he had told her she knew nothing about the city. She could just as well have taken a train to New York._

_Why go to San Francisco when there was a Benjamin Warner in Indian Springs? If she left now, they could never go beyond their passionate encounters, could never find out if they might be capable of living an every-day life together..._

A soft smile lit her face, a smile the passing townspeople wondered about.  

_'Every-day life'? Here she was, an independent woman on her way to the biggest city in the West, dreaming about a small-town life with a common rancher... But he wasn't 'common'. He most definitely wasn't! And she hadn't the slightest wish to pack her bags and climb into that stagecoach._

_No. She wouldn't leave. She would stay. Stay and wait for his return..._

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Plans for the future

"Eighty dollars, as agreed." Ben placed the dollar bills on the table in front of him. O'Brady, the farrier, was about to grab them when Ben's fist came down on them, stopping him.

" _After_ you've shod the horses," Ben said.

The two men exchanged a look and O'Brady nodded. Then he went to work.

"Not bad: 80 dollars for... what? Three, maybe four days' work," John muttered under his breath knowing that Ben could overhear him.

"You do his job, John, I give _you_ the money," Ben suggested.

John grimaced: he couldn't do the job, he wasn't a farrier.

"It's still too much," he said. Ben nodded agreement. The price was outrageous! But there was nothing he could do.

"He's the only one around, so he gets to make the price," he told John summing up the price-dictating situation of supply and demand that was life in the West.

 

 

Ben stashed away his money, then proceeded to make himself a cup of coffee and a meal. As he stood at the stove frying himself potatoes and bacon, he experienced a vision. A vision of Jenny standing in this very kitchen, preparing his meal. It was the first time ever in his life the outlaw Ben Wade allowed himself to think such a thought, and he realized suddenly how sweet a thought it was.

_Coming in after a long day of back-breaking work to a hot meal and a soft, warm and welcoming woman... what more could a man ask for?_

_But the woman in question was a lady. Would she want to be reduced to living in a small place in Indian Springs when she was bound for a flashy city like San Francisco? Could she be content with working her fingers to the bone on a ranch that was only just beginning to take shape? Why should she want to do that?_

_They fit together - no doubt about it. Their talks, their laughter, their intimate encounters... so far Ben was sure he had measured up to Jenny's expectations. And what expectations!_

He laughed at the memory.

_Those games of hers had taken him by surprise. They had really had a wild time between the sheets. What a woman!_

_But was it enough for everyday-life? Was it enough for her? The 'outlaw' had been an exciting game, but an outlaw would never be good enough to keep a lady like Jennifer Carson. And just how much less exciting than that was ranching..._

And then it hit him. It was exactly the fact that he was no longer an outlaw, that now he could call himself 'rancher' that gave him a chance he had never had before in his whole life: the chance to court a woman like Jennifer Carson and to build up a life with her...

 

Agitated by his train of thoughts Ben put aside the frying pan and paced around. _But would she agree to this? What if she decided to step into that coach that left... when?_

Ben counted the days and panic rose in him: _They had only tomorrow left! And the farrier wouldn't leave for two, perhaps even three days! Damn!_

The sudden sinking of his heart told him clearly how much she meant to him. In the space of two short days Jenny had filled something in him Ben hadn't even known had been empty.

_He had to make her stay! Somehow he had to convince her that it was worth exchanging San Francisco for Indian Springs. Or perhaps he should consider moving to San Francisco..._

 

 

"John..."

"Boss?"

"The lady I was speaking to in town when you fetched me..."

John nodded but didn't give away his thoughts. He hadn't been with Ben Warner for very long yet, but he liked his boss. So far his boss hadn't even looked at any of the women in town - except for an occasional visit to the saloon girls.

"I'm supposed to see her tomorrow. But O'Brady won't be gone by then. You go down into town. Tell her... tell her I can't come down, so perhaps she would like to come here."

Again, John nodded without giving away his thoughts. _Only seven months ago he had been a desperado, drifting from town to town, in search of a place where he could leave behind his old life. And then he had met Ben Warner and started working for him. They had been getting along from the start, working hand in glove together. He admired his boss. More than he would ever let him know - That woman he had seen with him, she had looked real beautiful..._

John made for his horse while Ben returned to the house.

 

 

John had no trouble finding her. The lady was walking along the main street of Indian Springs.

He watched her speak to another woman. The woman turned and pointed towards a house not too far away. The lady nodded, thanked her and walked on.

"Ma'am..." John rode up to her.

 

Jenny stopped and looked at the handsome man beside her. _It was the man who had fetched Benjamin!_

"Yes?"

"Boss... am... Mr. Warner would like to invite you to the ranch, Ma'am," John said.

"Invite me?"

He could see how her eyes started to sparkle at the idea. _What a beauty! His boss sure had good taste._

"Yes," John added, "I'll pick you up with the wagon tomorrow morning. Where you staying?"

Jenny smiled at John. "At the hotel."

John nodded and touched his hat. "Ma'am," he said and turned his horse.

 

As Jenny walked on she could barely contain her excitement. Her quick steps gave her away. She was almost running, although she had no goal. After reaching the end of the main street she stopped.

_She had better return to her hotel room. She had a beautiful red dress she could wear, but she would have to freshen it up first..._

 

 

Meanwhile, the ex-outlaw Ben Wade haunted his own house. Walking from room to room he became aware of how Spartan and primitive it still was.

Well, as a bachelor he didn't need much. And he spent most of his time outside with the horses and the ranch hands, anyway. He even took most of his meals with the ranch hands nowadays. All he used the house for was sleeping.

He walked up to his bedroom and looked around: it was the only room that was fully furnished and comfortable. It had a big, soft bed with warm blankets and cushions and a heavy chest with drawers on top of which stood a mirror and a wash basin.

He looked at the little nightstand beside the bed - it was a small wooden box with a lid and an iron lock. In it lay the 'Hand of God' and three books - safely stowed away from prying eyes.

Ben unlocked the box, picked up one of the books and browsed through it thoughtfully.

_Wasn't easy to get your hand on books in Indian Springs. With only three books in his possession the book shelf he meant to put up one day could still wait. But with the idea of a bookstore sending books to your home... and a woman who loved reading books, too... instead of building a new barn, maybe he should think about putting up a book shelf first..._

He didn't know it, but a soft smile lit up his whole face.

 

The room downstairs couldn't really be called a home yet. It held only fireplace, a stove, and some pots and pans. The plain table with its four chairs was the only additional furniture in it. For the cold season when he would spend more time indoors, Ben meant to find comfortable armchairs and a rug to place in front of the big fireplace.

He also needed a cupboard to store some plates, glasses, and cutlery - but so far there had always been more important things to worry about than furniture or comfort.

His hands ran over the table's smooth surface. _It was all still too plain. But surely a woman would know what to do to make this place her home, would know what to buy?_

Again, he cast his eyes around.

_Could a lady like Jennifer Carson want to live here?_

He tried to remember what Jenny had told him about her husband and the kind of life they had led. But she hadn't really spoken much about this part of her life, hadn't given him any clues.

_Could he eclipse her past life in St. Louis by making her work at his side on this ranch in the small town of Indian Springs? Should he really risk offering that choice, Indian Springs over San Francisco? Shouldn't he opt for San Francisco himself, instead? But what would he do there? Buying the ranch hadn't been hard; the previous owner had wanted to get rid of it. But selling it at short notice would be much more difficult. And following a woman like Jennifer Carson to San Francisco without the necessary money to keep her in style would be useless._

_Keeping her in style... wouldn't be hard to do if he went back to his robberies. But it would also mean going back to being on the run all the time. No. A woman like Jennifer Carson wouldn't want to live such a life. And leaving her behind to escape to Mexico and lie low for months on end would only result in coming back to find her settled with another man - one who wouldn't make her an outcast in society because the law wanted him._

_No chance - the only life he could offer her lay here on the ranch. The question it all boiled down to was: would this life be good enough for her?_

Tired of his thoughts running around in circles, Ben's fist hit the kitchen table.

_He couldn't know unless he asked her..._

 

 

 


	12. Trouble brewing

"Thank you, Mrs. Reed."

Jenny smiled, paid the exorbitant sum of $6.50 and received the little red hat she had chosen. She didn't need another hat, but there wasn't much to do in this town, and so she had decided to check out the seamstress' shop. There was no millinery in Indian Springs, and what little choice of hats existed - "I brought them from Carson City, Mrs. Carson" - was displayed on a few crude shelves. _Now, this hat would go wonderfully with the red dress she meant to wear the next day._

"It's a lovely hat, Mrs. Carson. And it suits your face," Mrs. Reed cooed. "Do take a look in the big mirror over there. The small mirror won't do the hat justice."

To be polite, Jenny walked over to the large mirror that Mrs. Red had put up for the customers trying on dresses when out of the corner of her eye she saw an elegant man stand outside the shop in the bright sunlight, talking with the banker.

Mrs. Reed saw Jenny rooted to the spot.

"Quite a charming man, isn't he?" she asked smugly.

Jenny woke out of her stupor. _She mustn't let the seamstress know._

"Who is he?" she asked Mrs. Reed with the most innocent look she could muster.

It was a superfluous question. She knew the man only too well.

"That's Mr. Wells," Mrs. Reed informed her. "He has only recently settled here in Indian Springs. Quite a gentleman," she droned on. "He has some business, but I don't know what it is. He goes over to Pah-Rimpi and to Las Vegas quite often. I believe his business has to do with mining..."

While Mrs. Reed chatted on Jenny gripped hold of the window frame. _Harcourt Wells in Indian Springs._

For a second she closed her eyes to control the tears that welled up in them. _Wells. Gleefully demanding her services in Amber Jones' brothel, overstepping the boundaries time and time again, until in the end she refused to ever see him again, no matter how much he was willing to pay._

_His face had been red with rage as she had told him in the presence of the other girls and the manageress. Amber Jones had been a whore herself before running the place. She knew that it was girls like Jenny and their special services that ensured the men came back time and time again, and the money kept rolling in. Her, Amber's, money. The lion's share of it._

_And so, for once, Amber Jones had sided with Jenny and not taken the 'customer is always right' attitude. Never would Jenny forget Wells' look of hatred and his oath to pay her back one day._

When Jenny arrived in her hotel room with her new hat in hand all she could do was sink on her bed and sob.

 

 

The next morning John Smith stood in front of the hotel, waiting for the lady to arrive.

When Jenny stepped out of the door he blinked: she was dressed in a red satin dress that hugged her figure. The cut of the dress was deceptively simple. But it was exactly this simplicity that showed off her figure to perfection, caressing her curves like second skin. There were no frills or laces on the dress, nothing to disturb from its perfect cut, except a little pocket over her breast which held a watch - apparent from the chain that was fastened atop it. Jenny carried a little red bag of the same material, and she wore a red hat that was so tiny; it was more an accentuation of her beautiful hair than a feature in itself.

John stared open-mouthed until he became aware of his behaviour. He masked his embarrassment with a mumbled greeting and an attempt to straighten out the reins of the horses.

Jenny's little smile of triumph escaped his notice: _yes, that was exactly the reaction she hoped to elicit from Benjamin when he would set eyes on her..._

 

During their ride John didn't dare open a conversation. And Jenny didn't feel like it, either. Now that they were on their way, the thoughts that had kept her awake the previous night were returning.

_There was no point in staying. Not when Harcourt Wells could expose her as an ex-whore from St. Louis the moment he set eyes upon her. - Oh, how she wished she could just pack Benjamin and leave! He even liked San Francisco, didn't he? So why not?_

_Why not? The man owned a ranch, he was busy building it up, making it his home. When talking about it the day before he had sounded so excited, so full of energy. Why should he give this up to come with her to San Francisco?_

_He wouldn't. And it was stupid of her to even think about it, just because she wanted him so badly._

_No. There was no point going over this again and again. It was over. And she would have to tell him that._

Her breast ached at the thought, and she struggled to take deep and even breaths. John slowed down the horses, thinking that she might be feeling sick, but she shook her head no, and so he turned his attention to steering the wagon again.

She sighed soundlessly.

_In her heart she KNEW why Benjamin has asked her to come to his ranch: he meant to woo her, to convince her that she should become his... no. Her love was running away with her again._

_But he might want to ask her to consider delaying her travel plans in order to spend more time together, in order to find out if they were meant to..._

Violently, she shook her head to get rid of the _circulus vitiosus_ in her head, startling John with her gesture.

But John was a good judge of people. He sensed the state of agitation, even panic the lady beside him was in, and so he neither spoke nor moved. Calmly he steered the horses along, giving her time to compose herself.

And Jenny was grateful that she didn't have to enter into any small-talk.

 

 

Ben was in the barn when he heard the wagon arrive. He, too, blinked when he saw the red-clad figure sitting beside John. _That dress was definitely not made to wear on a ranch. She must have dressed up for him..._

With a smile that bordered on pride of ownership he approached the wagon and raised his arms to help Jenny climb off.

 

Jenny couldn't help herself: she simply  _had_ to smile at his smile. _That sparkle in his eyes looked as though he might ravish her right there and then._

Her hands on his shoulders, his hands on her hips, a light 'hop', and she stood before him. His  hands didn't move. Instead, they squeezed ever-so-slightly, a gesture of recognition of how they could be when together, a tentative claim of territory...

His squeeze was so light that none of the onlookers could become aware of it, but Jenny felt a wave of longing wash over her as she felt his fingers dig into her flesh.

She took a close look at him and enjoyed what she saw:  _he was dusty from his work, a smidgen of dirt ran across his nose and cheek, and his eyes shone so invitingly, she would have loved to kiss him right there in front of everyone, to forget about Wells, and hide in his embrace forever..._

After a few seconds that lasted an eternity, Ben released his grip on her, but his gesture came so late that even the most dim-witted ranch hand grinned and exchanged a look with his peers: the visit of that woman must have a special meaning...

 

"So," Ben stated, nervous all of a sudden and not quite sure how to begin, "would you like a cup of coffee first, or would you like to see the ranch?"

"The ranch."

He held out his arm, bent at the elbow for her to take, and without the slightest bother about the onlookers' thoughts, they stepped into their casual routine of clinking arms and walking together.

Ben led Jenny into the barn.

Jenny stopped at the entrance, disoriented by the sudden change from bright sunlight to almost complete darkness.

"I know, it's still too dark in here." Ben had picked up on her confusion. "One of the things I'll do with the money I got is buy lots of glass and put in real big windows here."

Jenny frowned. "But why big ones?" she asked. "Surely, you need only a little more light to walk about safely."

"Mainly for the horses," he answered. "Horses are creatures of the wide open spaces. They are used to bright light and freedom of movement. - Now, this barn is meant for the sick horses. When a horse is in pain, it's scared, anyway. No point in making it worse by putting it in a dark place where there might be some predator lurking..."

Jenny was impressed. _How well he understood those creatures. As if he saw the world through their eyes. He was using this barn as a sick-room - in spite of the horse flu that had shaken St. Louis she had never given thought to the fact that horses, too, might fall ill and might have to be nursed back to health. How did you nurse a horse?_

"Do you have sick ones now?" she asked.

"Yes," Ben nodded. "There's a mare over there. Got hurt when the whole herd rushed to the water trough. Never gonna do it like that again," he shook his head at his own folly.

"What happened?" Jenny asked, made curious.

"Oh, nothing much. Horses were on the meadow without access to water. So we put a trough in for them and filled it with water. Moment the beasts realized there was water in there, they all rushed to it. Wasn't enough space for them all to drink, so they kicked each other out of the way. That's how the mare got hurt." He shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment. "I still gotta learn much about how to do this ranching business, I guess."

 

_The bashful look that accompanied his words was adorable,_ Jenny thought. But Ben felt quite different about his words.

_What was he doing? Here he meant to impress her, and he was telling her about the mistakes he made?_

In order to score a few points with the lady, he kept talking about the mare and how the salve they were using on her wound was doing a good job. The mare would be able to join the herd very soon...

Jenny was listening intensely. She found his tale about the mare riveting. The easy way with which he stroked and patted the animal and the mare's docile appreciation of his touches fascinated her and drew her into his world. It was a world so different from all that she knew.

_Breeding horses, raising foals and training them, caring for the sick ones... wasn't this what life was all about? Wasn't this more important, more 'essential' than anything she had ever seen and done in life? And this ranch, wasn't it a perfect place? A place to work and make your mark, a place to stay and grow old..._

"You are miles away from here," Ben remarked when he saw Jenny stare right in front of herself. "Let's go out into the sun again. I'm boring you with my stories."

"No!" She meant to contradict him, but couldn't say anything appropriate. Her mind was still traversing the paths of her musings, and the emotions her thoughts had stirred up had to be stilled first. _It would not do if she lost herself in thought of a bliss that was out of her reach!_

 

 

 


	13. The reason for the visit

"Now..." he said as they stepped outside into the sunshine again, "would you like to see the foals?"

"Yes!" she beamed at him.

"Walk or ride in the wagon?"

"Is it far?"

He shook his head. "Half an hour."

"Let's walk," she said, and he led her away from the buildings and along a worn-out track to a meadow further off.

 

The pastures they passed were mostly empty. Jenny took in the land around her, the lush meadows in the sunshine, the mountain range far off, and she enjoyed the sounds of the wind and of birds - sounds that were so different from those of a big city. On the unused meadows the grass that swayed in the breeze was knee-high and interspersed with flowers.

Further and further they walked, out of sight and sound of people. Again, their strides were in perfect concord. Silently walking side by side, they didn't realize that their breaths were getting deeper and deeper - after a few minutes their breaths, too, were in perfect unison.

The sunshine felt wonderful! Jenny's body was warming up, and she could see bees buzz around and go from one flower to the next. The fresh air made her dizzy... _or was it the presence of the man beside her?_

She didn't dare look at him; he was too astute an observer, and she felt nervous and languid at the same time.

 

Ben didn't disturb her. He was subtly watching her, waiting for a signal how she related to everything around her.

When they passed a strip of green that held flowers of all kinds, she crouched down to smell them. When she rose again and looked at him, she perceived a smirk that made her blush.

"What is it?" she asked, somewhat defiantly. _What was he thinking of her?_

Ben chuckled and shook his head. "Nothing."

"No. I want to know what you were thinking."

Her haughty look was unmistakable: she would not give in.

"Alright," he said, and she saw the smirk grow in his eyes and on his lips. "I was thinking how you look like a poppy flower yourself, all dressed up in that red gown."

He said it lightly, but his eyes told a different story. Her blush deepened.

"I just like flowers," she said somewhat lamely, "Like to smell them..."

"Aye," he said softly, his eyes never leaving hers, "I understand. I like that, too." His last words were whispered. He didn't move a muscle, but his eyes never left hers. If anything, they became even more intense.

 

A high whinny disturbed their tender moment. Ben turned. They were close enough to see the horses, and Ben's sharp eyes spotted the originator of the noise.

It was a little bay foal that had challenged a playmate to a fighting match. Those babies were only a few months old, and their play-fighting was still more play than fighting. Nevertheless, the little bay took it very seriously, and when he failed to hit his sparring partner yet again, he gave another frustrated whinny.

Ben and Jenny laughed. _Those babies were so cute!_

"Oh, Benjamin, they are lovely!"

He could hear the enchantment in her voice. Jenny walked to the fence to get as close as possible, but the little animals kept walking off, away from the fence and further into the meadow.

"Wanna see them up close?" Ben asked and Jenny nodded. Ben entered the meadow, but he couldn't entice any of the foals to come closer. The animals didn't know him well enough yet, and even the mares were still shy around him. And even more so the foals - especially around a strange red creature that kept giggling!

Apologetically, Ben shrugged his shoulders as he had to declare defeat.

"They still have to learn to trust me. Previous owner didn't handle them much, so the mares are still suspicious when I try to touch them or their little ones," he explained to Jenny.

 

They walked back along an adjacent meadow. Suddenly Ben whistled. A black horse stopped grazing, raised its head, and then came trotting across the meadow right up to the fence.

"Hello boy," Ben said tenderly and patted the horse's neck before turning to Jenny.

"That's 'Ribbon'. We've been together for many years," he introduced the horse to Jenny. "That's how I want all my horses to react when they see me," he added, then gave a sigh, aware of the mountain of work this would mean. "Oh well... they'll learn."

Cautiously, Jenny extended her hand and stroked over the gelding's muzzle.

"It's so soft," she remarked, astonished at the texture.

The horse snorted and came closer. Then it raised its head and nuzzled at her ear. Jenny was mesmerized by the show of tenderness from an animal she had only ever perceived as a means of transport. She kept stroking Ribbon's muzzle, his nose and face.

 

"Yeah, he loves a soft hand," Ben remarked with a slight smile. _Ribbon was a true friend, even helping him along with his wooing..._

Jenny laughed at his comment.

"Who doesn't?" she asked and kept stroking. "He is beautiful. If I were a mare, I believe I would choose him."

Ben laughed. "Would be no good," he said. "He's a gelding. Not much fun to be had from a gelded horse."

Jenny blushed. _Well, she didn't know that much about horses, did she?_

 

_That blush was so adorable!_

Ben's first impulse was to grip her and kiss her embarrassment away. _What was he thinking? He had to get a grip on himself._

They turned to walk back. Ribbon wasn't happy about them leaving and gave a whinny. Ben chuckled.

"Nah, boy," he said. "The lady's mine. Walk on."

He gave Ribbon a farewell-pat and, reluctantly, the horse left.

"He's adorable," Jenny commented, "he understands everything you say."

"Nah, he doesn't," Ben said lightly, then added in a dark voice, "but he knows when to back off and leave the field to me."

_That pearly laughter! And that tight red dress. Hell, how much self-control could a man exert when being presented with so tasty a morsel?_

Jenny's laughter turned into a shriek and a moan as he grasped her and his lips found her throat. Laughing and moaning at the same time, it was hard for her to keep her balance, and so she held onto him.

From afar the movements of the red and the black-clad creatures certainly looked more play than fighting...

 

Naturally, their fooling around made them end up on the grass. But they were sensible enough not to take this any further. After they were done laughing, Ben helped Jenny get off the ground, and they proceeded to straighten themselves out and brush grass and pollen off their clothing and out of their hair. Jenny's hat had come loose, and after she had put it on without the help of a mirror she asked

"Am I presentable?"

Ben looked her over critically and fingered the hat and her hair, presumably to get off some more grass, but it took inexplicably long, and the touches were accompanied by caresses...

"None of that now." Jenny shoved his hand away.

"How about a cup of coffee now?" Ben asked.

Jenny nodded. "Yes, that's a good idea."

 

 

On their way back, a deep melancholy took hold of Jenny. When they arrived at the house, her heart sank. _She would have to say good-bye soon._

Ben opened the door for her.

"It's still sparse," he said. "I haven't had the time to do much in the house."

Jenny looked around. _Yes. It looked empty. The plain and ungarnished abode of a bachelor. But it would be easy to make it comfortable. It just needed a touch here and there..._

While she had still been working in the brothel, she had spent many hours of her 'spare time' dreaming about her future home in San Francisco. She had fantasized about every detail - what her bedroom would look like, her sitting-room, her kitchen...

Ben watched as Jenny walked to the stove, taking in the room.

_That frying pan on the stove hadn't been scraped properly..._

Suddenly she was reminded of her mother, and how she used to scrub pots and pans, humming a tune to herself. She had loved being the mistress of her own home, never mind the primitive conditions. As long as her children didn't go hungry, she hadn't bothered.

_How different had her, Jenny's, own life been! After being taken away from her small world and tasting luxury for two years, there had been the pitfall of Jim's death! And with it the inescapable truth that in order to have a life in a home, scrubbing pots and washing laundry, you needed someone to provide for you._

_And so, in the end, it had been easier to become a whore in a classy brothel than find a way back to the world where she had once come from..._

_Wouldn't it be wonderful to stay here... safe. Sheltered by this man who could be so loving and tender when dealing with his horses or touching her skin..._

_Together, they could have a good life here - a better one than she could hope for in San Francisco while being on her own._

_And she wasn't too old for children yet..._

 

Ben saw Jenny stand at the stove, softly stroking over things, lost in thought. And suddenly his vision came true. _There she was, standing in his kitchen, preparing food, being part of his life..._

Gone was the lady. Her red dress that spoke of an image no longer mattered. In its place stood the woman. The woman who had allowed him to touch her body, and who had - in turn - touched his heart.

A soft sigh escaped her, and Ben took it as his cue to approach her. His guts churned with fear - a feeling rather uncommon for 'Ben Wade the outlaw', but Ben Wade the man couldn't help it. He had to make the first move now, had to ask her what might well turn out to become the most important question of his life...

Ben had been wrestling with his thoughts all night, finally deciding that before he gave up everything to follow her to San Francisco, he would try to convince her that life at his side in Nevada would be worthwhile. And for this she must be made to understand what this ranch could be - if necessary with the proper embellishment.

But somehow it was impossible for him to do what he had planned to do. His ever-critical mind would not allow it.

_It felt like cheating. No matter how hard he was willing to work, he couldn't be sure his plans would really work out, couldn't guarantee that she would have a good life at his side... But if he was honest, she might not wish to stay. Wasn't it better to tell a white lie? Was this really cheating? He wasn't sure, didn't know right from wrong any more..._

His hands soft on her shoulders, his voice purring right into her heart, he told her of his plans - for the house, for the ranch, for the horses. He simply couldn't bring himself to lie to her, and so he told her of the hardships he had overcome and didn't omit mentioning that there might be many more to face in the near and distant future...

 

_He sounded so determined, so sure of himself - everything had already taken shape in his mind. With enough time, he would fulfil his dream and make this place his kingdom. There was no way he would ever think of leaving here for her. And why should he? This was his world, he was the master here. In a city like San Francisco he would be... what? Even if he were successful in some business, he could never be what he was here: the undisputed master of his own world. The mere thought of taking him away from all this was selfish... selfish and unfair._

_He would find some other woman... which woman would not willingly come and work at this man's side?_

When he fell silent a panic seized her. _Now. She would have to rebuke him now..._

 

"Jenny... could you...?" He fell silent. _Why was this so hard to say?_

She stood in front of him so submissively... he felt that something was wrong. _But what?_

She couldn't turn and look at him. _No. Let him NOT say it. She must remember what she had prepared to say. The role she must play. For his sake. And for her sake, too. So that he might remember her as a woman worth remembering. And this was only possible if she left him. Were she to remain here, then sooner or later the town would know her as 'the whore from Amber Jones' brothel'..._

Taking a deep breath, Jenny tried not to let her eyes betray her true feelings for him.

His hands softly took her by the shoulders, and he turned her to face him.

"Could you imagine... living here with me?"

She raised her eyebrows in astonishment.

"Here? With you? What do you mean, Benjamin? You can't invite me to live here. That would be... immoral..."

_His smile was so tender..._

"Not as a... _companion,_ Jenny. As my wife."

_Wife!_

The word hit her hard - harder than she had imagined possible.

_Wife._ The respectable, the untouchable status of it plucked a chord deep in her soul. And she realized that the last fifteen years had burned away the hope that she might ever be a wife to anybody again. _A whore wasn't good enough for this, was she?_

 

He had seen the panic in her eyes - and the sudden pain. _What of it? Was she scared by his offer? Or was it even more? Did she feel humiliated by it? After all, he didn't know her and her past that well, did he? Perhaps she had only wanted some fun with a man while on the trail, some leisure time away from prying eyes before she went on to establish herself in the High Society of California. Perhaps his offer was, indeed, an insult to her..._

 

Her heart raced and her mouth felt dry. What to say? There wasn't really a way to stay polite, to soften the blow, was there?

"I... don't think I am prepared to be your... your..."

He saw her swallow hard, unable to say the word. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't turn away.

"I cannot be your wife."

When she saw the veil that fell over his eyes, her heart suddenly radiated a pain that seared through her whole body.

_She couldn't let that pain become real - not yet. It would kill her if she did. She had to leave - as fast as possible._

"I... It's been a wonderful day, Benjamin. I won't keep you any longer now. I'm sure you have work to do."

"Yes."

One word, spoken hard and cold. It cut her apart.

"Perhaps someone is kind enough to drive me back to the hotel." Jenny's voice was as small as she felt.

"I'll tell John to get the wagon."

With this Ben left the house.

 

 

When she was seated and the carriage started moving, Jenny looked back to where Ben stood. His eyes said it all: he was bleeding inside. Ever since they had met - and for the first time in his adult life, actually - Ben Wade had allowed himself to be open and vulnerable. He had been ready for love, and had hoped to get it from Jenny. And now she was leaving.

"I love you," she mouthed back to him and saw his eyes go hard. Tears blurred her vision. _This wasn't the Benjamin she knew any longer. It was the man she had once unleashed in their sex game, the unnamed outlaw who looked back at her._

It was an hour's drive into town, much too short a distance for Jenny to cry her fill...

 

~~~

 

The next morning before Jennifer Carson was to step into the waiting coach she heard a voice she recognized with horror call a name she knew.

"Suzie Summerfield!" It was spoken with glee. For a moment she contemplated ignoring the words. But when the man who had spoken stepped close, she knew it would be of no avail.

Wells had just happened to be standing in front of the telegraph office when he had spotted a woman he remembered from his sojourns into the brothels of St. Louis.

"Excuse me?" Jennifer turned and met his insolent smile with an astonished stare.

"Oh... all dressed up to play 'lady' now, are we?" he asked insolently.

Jennifer smiled inwardly. _How dumb did he think she was to fall for such a cheap trick?_ She managed to send him a ladylike smile.

"You must confuse me with someone. Good day, sir."

Amid Wells' laughter she took another step towards the door of the coach. The coachman held out his hand to help her inside. At that moment she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Ben had stopped his horse in front of the saloon some twenty yards from the coach. He didn't dismount. Instead, he kept looking at her, a question in his eyes. She gave a helpless little shake of her head, grabbed for the coachman's hand and climbed into the coach.

After securing the door the coachman climbed on his seat and the coach started moving. When it was out of sight Ben dismounted, tied his horse and turned to walk into the saloon. Simpson from the telegraph office stopped him.

"Mr. Warner. Mrs. Carson left this letter for you."

He handed Ben a letter carrying his name.

Meanwhile Wells had been walking over to him.

"Now, there's a lassie if I ever saw one," he smirked.

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"That woman who just left in the stage? She's from St. Louis. I used to know her there. She was a whore. One of the really expensive ones. 'Ladylike' - getting my meaning, Warner? Wouldn't be bad to have someone like her here," he added with a conspiratorial wink.

Ben fixed him with a hard stare. The man had no idea how close he was to being murdered right there and then. Fortunately, after delivering his words, Wells turned away and walked into the saloon.

Only after he had vanished did Ben open Jenny's letter.

 

_"My beloved Benjamin,_

_Please forgive me for what I have done to you. I cannot stay however much I wish to. It is not selfishness on my part, but a care for you, a man I have fallen in love with in the course of three short days. I do not wish for you to be tarred by my past that one day might catch up with me._

_Instead, I would wish for you to remember me as I was when we played the Poker game and the more intimate 'game' that followed afterwards._

_Farewell._  
_Jennifer"_

 

For several minutes Ben contemplated mounting Ribbon and following the stage. It would be easy to catch up with it. But then he didn't.

_She had left to pursue her dream of being a respectable woman in the eyes of society. If he were to persuade her to come back to him, then her secret wouldn't last a day. In a town where a man like Wells knew her, she could no longer be Mrs. Jennifer Carson but would only be the 'whore of the rancher Ben Warner'. And he didn't wish that for her._

After all, who if not the outlaw Ben Wade understood the need to hide?

 

 

 


End file.
